


Nothing Left To Give

by Doodsxd



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alzheimer's Disease, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Good Relationship, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Sibling, Billy Hargrove-centric, Billy goes away and then he comes back, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Denial of Feelings, Derogatory Language, Domestic Violence, Eight years from last season, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gay Billy Hargrove, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Going back home, Good Sibling Billy Hargrove, Good Sibling Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Growing Up, Illnesses, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing It Better, M/M, Metaphors, Multi, Mutual Pining, Physical Abuse, Poetic Language, Psychological Trauma, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Stream of Consciousness, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, becoming more mature, breakthroughs, post-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-13 11:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 29,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21493399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodsxd/pseuds/Doodsxd
Summary: “Billy.” She repeated smartly. “I imagine this is a lot, to suddenly see your father in an hospital bed. It can be quite shocking.”“You said somethin’ ‘bout an illness.” He interrupted her.“He was diagnosed with Alzheimer five years ago.” Layla looked confused. “You didn’t know?”Billy shook his head. “Haven’t talked to him in eight years.” He revealed to her.Her eyes widened slightly. Looked at Billy’s expression, then at the man lying down on the hospital bed. “I feel like you had a good reason not to.” Layla added. “But at this time even specialized care won’t take him. He’s too far gone his illness and needs a familiar face around to help him settle at the bad times.” She paused, looked at him. “We are as of now discharging him into your care. You are legally obligated to take him, honey.”He felt fear as an electrical shock from the floor up through his whole body, inside every single one of his bones. “Is he going to recognize me?”Layla pondered. “Maybe. Maybe not. It varies. He may also recognize you in one minute and remember nothing on the other.” Was her answer. “Alzheimer is a very fickle thing.”Billy just nodded, turning to her. “Where do I sign?”
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Maxine "max" Mayfield/Dustin Henderson, Will Byers/Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 46
Kudos: 248





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
I might take this out later, I'm not even sure yet.  
This fanfic is... close to home. I'm still working on it at the moment I post this. It's the second emotional challenge I go through this year through writing, and I'm not entirely sure what's coming out of it yet. But I like where it is at this point, so I decided to start posting, slowly.  
This work is un-beta'ed, but bear in mind that I tried to narrate from the inside of someone's mind, and my way of doing it is somewhat a stream of consciousness type of narrating - which means some "mistakes", especially in structure, are intentional. Some may not be, I'm not nearly close to perfect at this, but just keep it in mind. It can be colloquial, or stream of consciousness, so intentionally grammatically incorrect.  
I hope you enjoy it anyways.

**Nothing Left to Give**

_ By Doodsxd _

It came in like a wave, like unstoppable rising tide, a tide that aimed to swallow him whole. It came as phone call, a simple phone call, that crashed unrestrainedly over his carefully constructed world. 

“Mr. Hargrove?” The voice said from the other side of the line. It was a man, Billy registered. “Mr. Hargrove, are you still there?” 

He swallowed hard. Breathed. In, out. “Yeah.” He answered. “Yeah, I am.” 

Another beat of silence. “Are you coming, then?” 

In, out. In, out. In, out. Thinking was hard with the whole ocean crashing and pulling inside his brain. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.” Was his answer. 

The line dropped. He put down the phone. 

In, out. In, out. The ocean crashed. 

* * *

Hawkins’ General Hospital smelled as any hospital should smell, like heavily chemically cleaned environment, like they were constantly trying to forget that the whole building might as well be coated in overlapping blood stains of varied age and size. Eight years after and Billy’s nose could still make up the smell, reconstruct it from the particles dissolved by the peroxide. 

“I’m here for Hargrove. Neil Hargrove.” He announced at the reception, two pink-cladded women answering phones there. The brunette looked up, looked at him, smart and quick as any overwhelmed worker. 

“What’s your name?” 

“William Neil Hargrove.” He gave her his ID. 

The woman - Regina, her name tag read, as if this was a diner or something - checked the books. “Third floor, room 301.” She informed him. “The nurses will be able to give you more information.” 

Billy nodded, took the elevator up. He felt like he was floating. As soon as the elevator dinged and the metal doors opened, the sign “Mental Health Ward” graced his vision. 

Billy looked, the rooms were on the wrong order. The receptionist from the ward gave him a weird glance before coming to him. “Who are you here for?” 

“Neil Hargrove.” Every time he said it he wanted to puke. 

“And who are you to him?” She had a writing board on her hands. 

He didn’t know. “His son.” 

The nurse nodded. “Follow me.” 

He walked and walked, it seemed like he went forever. She entered a room, open door. _ There will be no locked doors in this house, you hear me, boy? _He stopped by the door, as if waiting for permission, as she troddled in, dark eyes and darker skin, grabbing his old man’s file. 

“He’s got a concussion, but it ain’t too bad.” Nurse Layla informed him. _ Those people aren’t good, Billy. Those monkeys have to be kept on a leash. I don’t want you or your sister anywhere near them. _“Are you with me?” 

“Yeah.” Billy snapped from his daydreams. “Yes, I am. Concussion, you said.” 

She stopped. Sighed. “I know this is a lot, Mr. Hargrove.” 

“Billy.” He corrected her immediately, feeling cold. 

“Billy.” She repeated smartly. “I imagine this is a lot, to suddenly see your father in an hospital bed. It can be quite shocking.” The woman put a hand on his arm and guided him inside, gently. “Your father has a concussion. He got confused while waiting on the line at the bank and, in his desperation, he punched a security guard, who in turn restrained him, which was when he hit his head.” 

“You said somethin’ ‘bout an illness.” He interrupted her, trying not to imagine if his dad saw his face in that guard’s expression. 

“He was diagnosed with Alzheimer five years ago.” Layla looked confused. “You didn’t know?” 

Billy shook his head. “Haven’t talked to him in eight years.” He revealed to her. 

Her eyes widened slightly. Looked at Billy’s expression, then at the man lying down on the hospital bed. “I feel like you had a good reason not to.” Layla added. “But at this time even specialized care won’t take him. He’s too far gone his illness and needs a familiar face around to help him settle at the bad times.” She paused, looked at him. “We are as of now discharging him into your care. You are legally obligated to take him, honey.” 

He felt fear as an electrical shock from the floor up through his whole body, inside every single one of his bones. “Is he going to recognize me?” 

Layla pondered. “Maybe. Maybe not. It varies. He may also recognize you in one minute and remember nothing on the other.” Was her answer. “Alzheimer is a very fickle thing.” 

Billy just nodded, turning to her. “Where do I sign?” 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy and Max talk.

The house looked the same. Same wallpaper, now lifting from the wall from humidity; same furniture, same rugs. Susan’s touches around the house were still the same, even though some of the decorative paintings around the walls had broken or re-glued frames. It all looked eerily like time travelling, even though Susan’s absence was clear all around. 

“What time is it?” He wobbled inside the house, going directly for the worn down couch and the remote. “I think it’s almost time for Fall Guy.” 

Billy said nothing. Fall Guy went out in 86, but maybe there were still reruns on the TV. 

“Since you can’t cook for shit and Susan isn’t around, you should ask for a pizza.” His old man searched his pockets for his wallet. It wasn’t there, of course - it was on Billy’s coat pocket. “Where did I leave my…-” 

“In your car, I think.” Billy answered before Neil could finish the sentence, eager to get out of there. 

“Get that for me, boy, and don’t mess with anything else!” He said loudly, but it was rather pathetic. He looked so small, old and fragile. “And tell ‘em not to let any negro boys bring the food here. I don’t need to get any diseases.” 

The restless feeling just grew. “I should get it myself.” He said, grabbing his car keys. “I’ll go. Don’t leave the house. A nur-” He stopped himself. Neil would never allow that. “A friend of Susan’s is going to come help around the house while she’s on her trip in about ten minutes.” 

“Susan’s trip.” Neil spat, looking angry. “This isn’t right. For a wife to travel alone and leave her husband without supper.” 

“I’ll go get a pizza.” Billy repeated. “Susan’s friend will be here in ten minutes. Is that alright?” 

Neil finally found the Fall Guy reruns on. It was on a different channel than before, and he complained about that, almost as if he hadn’t listened to Billy. 

He just got out of the house, claustrophobia taking him. He walked and walked and walked, into his car, driving to Rondolph Lane, directly to Benny’s Burgers. He thought about driving away. Back to his shop, back to his life and his work colleagues, to his little apartment in Kentucky.  _ You are legally obligated to take him, honey.  _ He wondered how did they find him this time around, and if he could drive farther away, changing his name, so they wouldn’t find him again. 

If anyone there recognized him, they said nothing. He sat down, ordered a coffee, almost went with burger and double fries, thought again. He was young, but not that young anymore. Switched for a sandwich, asking for all the salad they had inside.  _ Be a big boy,  _ Enrico’s voice told him in his mind. _ Daddy can’t tell ya what to do anymore. Remember that. _

Then, while he waited, staring at his own steaming coffee, he heard something. At first he didn’t move, thinking, well,  _ diner noises _ , but then pale hands settled on his table and his eyes shot up. 

“Max?” He asked, breathless. 

“Hi, Billy.” And oh my God, she… she looked like a woman. A proper grown-up, with her twenty-two years old. It was hard to believe, now, that she was only four years younger than him. “I thought I recognized you.” 

He thought about the letter he left her, the only thing he left behind when he took the camaro and drove away from Indiana, eight years ago. “Yeah.” He said, like a moron. She looked so beautiful. “Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Are you back?” She asked, those way-too-perceptive eyes scrutinizing him. Billy shrugged. 

“I don’t know.” Was his answer. He really didn’t. 

“And where have you been?” Max seemed weirdly interested. “You just sort of… disappeared. If it wasn’t for your letter, my mom would have filed a missing person’s report.” 

It was weird, talking about things that had happened so long ago, but were still so fresh within them all. It was too heavy not to be. “Yeah, I… I had to leave.” Billy couldn’t look her in the eye. 

“I know.” Her tone was understanding. She had her friends, but he? He didn’t have a support system. He didn’t have anybody. And with the added pressure of his dad, he could have actually broken. 

A thought crossed his mind violently. What if…? “Did my dad ever…?”  _ Don’t interfere with my marriage, boy _ .  _ Yessir.  _

He didn’t have to elaborate; Maxine shook her head. “Against me, no. Against mom, once.” She informed him. “Once it happened, she left. She’s still living with her sister. Her husband died on the Gulf War, so she was happy to have company again.” 

“How long ago?” He asked her. 

“Five years.” Max answered. Right about the time he was diagnosed, then. Billy didn’t blame her. “He punched her screaming your name.” 

Billy shut his eyes hard.  _ Fuck _ . “I’m sorry.” He told her, same as he wrote on the letter.  _ I’m sorry I left you both alone with him _ he wanted to say, but couldn’t.  _ Use your words _ , Enrico’s voice echoed in his brain. 

“Billy, it’s OK.” Max reached her hand over his. “I understand.” 

Despite his twenty-six years of age, Billy let his forehead fall on his hands over the table. Coming back to Hawkins, seeing Max, her actually  _ talking _ to him… felt like something out of a Twilight Zone episode.

Max didn’t say anything about it. “Are you back for him?” 

Billy nodded without lifting his head. “He’s got Alzheimer.” 

She frowned. “What, the forgetting illness?” 

He nodded again. “They say I’m legally obligated to take him.” Billy lifted his head. “He thinks your mother is on a trip. Doesn’t remember she left him.” 

“And how did they find you?” Max questioned. “I tried for a while and came up with nothing.” 

Why the hell did she try? “I don’t know.” 

She patted his arm. It was weird, like she had been doing that their whole lives, instead of being strangers living in the same house until he vanished for eight years. Thinking about it, though, she was probably the person who knew him best. He hadn’t really been close to anybody when he lived there. 

“I’m working at Melvald’s.” She told him while standing up. “You should come by to see me.” 

It was Billy’s time to frown. “Manager, right?” He asked. She had so much more in her than just retail clerk, even though that was a job as good as any. 

She smiled smugly, and he felt a pang. He missed her growing up. It had probably been formidable to watch. “Owner. I graduated top of my class in business.” 

He smiled back, a bit awkwardly, but truthfully nonetheless. “Atta girl.” 

She said nothing back, just turned and left. 

Billy took a sip of his coffee. It was cold. 

* * *


	3. Chapter Three

Going back to the house with pizza in hand, Billy entered to his dad still on the same spot. He served the old man like he liked - plate, ketchup, mayonnaise and mustard sauces spread through the table, alcohol-free beer inside a regular beer’s bottle. Billy wasn’t sure he could drink, but Neil Hargrove wasn’t Neil Hargrove without a beer bottle on his hand. It was best to avoid the fit he would have anyway. 

He got his own alcohol-free beer - alcohol seemed like a dangerous idea at the moment - and walked to the inhards of the house. 

First it was his own room. Some of his stuff was broken, maybe in a fit of Neil’s rage or in the fight with Susan, he didn’t know. It was dusty, and the stuff he left behind was unmoved. It felt weirdly like a shrine, but rightfully so, he thought. After all, the prodigal son was the only one who was forced to come back to his jailer. 

Then it was Max’s. That one looked a little moved, like Susan made an effort to make it look nice and available even though there was nobody sleeping there anymore. Without the girl’s stuff and vibrancy, though, it looked deader than his own. 

Finally, Neil’s room was… weird. It was messy, as if he was waiting for somebody to clean up after him - probably Susan,  _ a woman’s job _ after all. All pictures of Billy were gone, but Susan’s face still featured a lot of them, Max’s as well. 

After checking the state of the bathroom, he decided. Put the rubber gloves on. First he scrubbed the bathroom clean, then went to Max’s room, which was quicker. He did the dishes, dusted and used the vacuum on his old man’s room, changed the sheets. 

It was about eight o’clock and Neil was sleeping on the couch when Billy finally entered his own former room. His records were broken, pieces scattered around the floor along with layers of dust. His bed seemed to have had its sheets town, and his closet seemed to have been gone through. 

The shoebox where he used to keep important stuff had everything scattered around it - weed, cigarettes, photos of himself and his mom, the ownership certificate of his car, the pink ribbon he used on Max’s hair when he braided it for her a week after she arrived at Neil’s house. She had been so small, and so scared, and his mother had taught him how to braid for fun - but of course, once Max innocently bragged about Billy doing her hair to her mother and his father, he got beaten for it. For knowing how to braid hair, for being a faggot. Still, the smile on her face was what he remembered the most about that day, so he kept it. 

It was all there. All there, on the floor, all around him; his past, parts that would always compose the whole of Billy Hargrove. He couldn’t touch it. 

Before he did, a hand laid on his shoulder. 

“Don’t go into Billy’s room!” Neil said from behind him, looking panicked. “Don’t go into Billy’s room! The boy has to come back himself and clean up this mess, yes he does. I’m gon’ teach him respect and responsibility, yes I am.” He walked back to his couch, remote control on his hand, but his expression was twisted into something Billy knew very well, from the shape of his mouth to the wrinkle next to his eye. 

Something twisted in his gut. It wasn’t fear, no, but the revulsion was insurmountable. Billy ran to the bathroom and emptied his stomach contents in the toilet. 


	4. Chapter Four

Just like nurse Layla said, sometimes Neil remembered him, sometimes he was a perfect stranger inside the house. A week passed like that, with Billy awkwardly taking care of Neil’s physical needs, making sure he took his meds, had a plate of food and a clean house to walk around and yell to the walls. He ended up taking Max’s old room, but sleep came in snippets while he was there. 

He was able to hire a caregiver for the daytime, but he couldn’t stay away the whole day. He had nowhere to go, anyway, so he would only do errands - supermarket runs and hardware stores. He fixed the house, cleaned it up, bought food and meds, talked little. He called the shop back in Kentucky once to tell them what was going on, why wasn’t he coming back as soon as he told them. 

On the tenth day he finally worked up the confidence to go to Melvald’s. Billy entered the shop, hands on his pockets, back hunched over. Hoping he wouldn’t be recognized. 

“Hello,” A girl, clerk, told him as soon as she saw him browsing aimlessly. “Do you need any help?” 

“Uh-” Billy stammered, almost losing his gut. “Uh, I was actually-” 

“Leave it, Rose.” A voice came from behind him, sure and smug as it always us, if more mature. “He came here to see me.”

The girl seemed suddenly terrified. Billy almost laughed. Oh, Maxine. “Y-yeah, miss Mayfield?” 

“Yes.” He turned, seeing the redhead in all her glory, dressed in formal attire. “This dumbass is my brother.” 

His stupid heart inflated inside his ribcage, and he couldn’t contain his smile at that.  _ My brother _ . “You think I’m too grown up to mess up your hair at your workplace, Maxine, you’re entirely wrong.”

She smiled back at him, as if daring him. “Follow me.” 

They walked into the employee’s doors by the back, climbed some stairs and finally entered her office by the second floor. It had her name on the door and everything. He felt his chest swell in misplaced pride again. 

She motioned him to sit and went to press a few buttons on a fancy coffee machine behind her desk, coming back after she filled two mugs for them. Billy accepted it and took a sip, thankful to have something to do with his hands. 

“So.” She said after a sip, entwining her fingers over her stomach, leaning back on her chair, legs crossed. “You’re still here.” 

“Yeah.” Billy lowered the coffee mug, fingers playing with the corners, feeling the shape. 

“Why?” She asked him, eyes sharp as ever on his face. 

“Whatsit? Is the city closed for me or somethin’?” He asked back.  _ Defensive _ , Enrico’s voice came in his aid,  _ means you got somethin’ hurtin’ that needs to be defended _ . Billy grimaced. “I’m sorry.” 

She ignored him. “The city isn’t closed for you, no.” Maxine leaned forward, and he could see her intimidating some asshole into doing her bidding. “What I meant is, why the hell are you back for that asshole you call a father.”

He let his fingers go through his hair, a nervous habit. He kept it shorter these days. Less grime to clean up at the end of the day. He thought he looked better with longer hair, but practical reasons and all. “Got no choice. They’ll arrest me for abandonment if I leave him here.” 

“If they do that, I bail you out and pay for your attorney myself.” Max looked fiery, angry. “This isn’t right, you living at that house again.”

“Maxine,” He didn’t even know where to start.  _ I’m sleeping in your room, mine is still like I left it, with a few more broken stuff _ , didn’t seem like a good option. “It’s been eight years. It’s fine, OK?” He assured her.  _ Respect and responsibility.  _ “You don’t have to be angry on my behalf.” 

“Well, doesn’t seem like you’re angry at all.” She straightened up again, imperious. “Seems to me like somebody’s gotta be angry.” 

Billy shrugged, sipping on more coffee. 

“Did he hit you yet?” Maxine insisted. 

He shook his head. “Half the time he doesn’t know who I am.” He revealed, letting go of the coffee mug once more. It was very hot, almost burned him going in. “I just kinda keep things tidy and runnin’. He stares at the television and mumbles to himself the whole day.” 

“And that’s how you’re going to spend the rest of your life?” She never pulled a punch. 

“I don’t know.” Billy said, and it felt like he had been saying it for the past hundred years. He just felt so exhausted. Couldn’t remember a time he didn’t feel like that. 

“Seems like there’s a lot you don’t know, Billy.” Max pointed out. “I think it’s time you start figuring it out.” 

Billy shook his head. This had to be a dream. “So, what about you?” He turned the conversation back to normal grounds. “Are you married or somethin’?” She made a face that made him laugh. “What?” 

“I just imagined you married and it’s kinda gross.”  _ Faggot _ . “No, I’m not married.” 

“I see a ring, tho’.” He pointed out, watching her right hand. “Engaged, then.” 

“It’s been six months now.” She opened a smile, looking all softer. It was a good look on her. 

“Sinclair?”  _ Keep those monkeys on a leash.  _

Maxine sighed, shook her head. “No. We lasted until he went off to college, then it started to get too complicated.” 

“Then who’s the luc-” 

“Max, can I talk to you for a minute?” Billy didn’t even need to turn. Actually, that voice and the image it brought with it made him sit straighter, muscles tenser. 

He stood up. “I should go.” Billy felt suddenly eager to avoid the possibility of having his past thrown at his face once again, especially because he had no defense. He had been a shitty human being until 85. There was nothing he could do about it. 

“ _ Hell no, _ you’re staying right there.” Maxine stood up and pointed at his chair, an eyebrow raised. “Steve, remember Billy?” 

Fuck you very much, Maxine. Harrington looked like a deer on the headlights, just like him. Steve also looked older, like Billy, but his hair hadn’t changed much - it had less to no product on it, but that was it. Well, if he had hair that good, Billy pondered, he wouldn’t want to change it either. “Hargrove.” Harrington said, at a loss of words. Something shined from his right ring finger. 

“Harrington.” Billy kept his instance non-threatening, his tone amenable. He didn’t want no trouble. 

Harrington’s jaw seemed to have unhinged itself from its place. He wondered if the other man thought him incapable of being civil, even after almost a decade apart. “ _ Hargrove _ .” He repeated. 

Billy frowned; looked from Maxine’s smug face to Harrington’s expression of utter surprise. “Is there something on my face and you didn’t tell me?” He asked Max, who had the gall to laugh. 

“What do you need, Steve?” She asked like this was an everyday thing. It probably was. 

“Uh?” What was wrong with Harrington? Did he think Billy would attack him like a rabid dog or something? “Oh. I need your signature on a couple of purchases.” 

Maxine just raised her hand and Harrington walked inside, handing her the papers so she could sign them. 

“So you’re…?” Billy asked, wondering if he still - or ever - had the right to be the worried brother. He eyed Max and she didn’t seem bothered, still analyzing the papers. 

“We’re business partners.” She informed him. “Steve came up with the money, I came up with the idea. Now he handles external affairs and I handle the rest.” She handed Harrington his papers back. “Steve owns, like, half the town. Didn’t even use his dad’s money or anything.” 

Did she want him to feel more like a loser or what? “Good for you guys.” 

“I never asked, what about you, Billy?” She asked as if Harrington wasn’t even there. Billy’s hand went straight to the nape of his neck, betraying his nervousness. 

“I’m partner at a small mechanic shop back in Kentucky.” He informed her. “Same deal as you, I guess; I put on the long hours and pitch in with money when it comes my way, the other guys do the same.” 

“And girlfriends?” She crossed her arms over her chest, still with that stupid smile on her face. “Are you married or something? Am I an aunt?” 

“N-no.”  _ Fuck.  _ “No. I ain’t got time for any of that.” He thought of Enrico. He thought of his sweet, gorgeous wife, Claudia. How her dark eyes were too smart for her not to know about him. How she never treated him differently for it; if anything, she was sweeter, more caring. Maybe it was a latino thing, he thought, and then beat himself up for it. 

“You always had time for that.” Maxine’s eyes narrowed, and he could  _ see _ the cogs turning in her head. “What changed?” 

“Look, I’m just gonna-” Harrington interrupted, still there. Fuck life. “I’m just gonna go. Nice to see you, Hargrove.” 

That bad feeling settled in his gut again. “Billy.” He corrected him without a thought. 

Harrington… broke. Again. “Uh?” 

“He asked you to call him by his first name, Steve.” Maxine intervened, looking amused. 

“Uh.” He mumbled again. “Billy.” Why did it sound so strange. “OK. Billy. Nice to see you.” 

“Nice to see you too.” Billy answered politely. 

Harrington left. Max looked more smug than ever. “What?” He was frowning again. 

“Nothing.” Was her answer. She sat down again. “Are you sure there’s no women?” 

Billy huffed a laugh. “Yes, Maxine. I’m sure.” 

She hummed, scrutinizing him. “We should have lunch. And dinner.” She decided. 

He felt something weird in his stomach. “Yeah. That would be nice.” 

“Friday at one?” She asked him, taking another sip of her coffee. 

“Benny’s Burgers?” He suggested and she scowled. 

“Do you think I keep this figure eating at Benny’s Burgers?” 

Billy just raised both eyebrows, seeing through her. 

She folded. “OK, OK I do. I was just trying to eat healthier!” 

“Ask for the salad sandwich.” He suggested, amused. “It’s really good.”

Maxine huffed. “If you get there first, order me double fries.” 

“And burger, no onions, and strawberry milkshake.” He numbered, and by her expression, she was just as surprised as he was that he remembered it all so easily. 

“Don’t be late!” She yelled like a crazy person as he was leaving. 

Billy left her office with a smile that even Neil refusing to take his pills and throwing a tantrum up to one a.m. didn’t wipe completely. 


	5. Chapter Five

Tuesday hadn’t been a good day at all. 

He tried to clean his old room and once again his old man raised hell. This time, though, he decided that Billy was his uncle, with whom Neil had a quarrel with, and tried to punch him in the face. The caregiver threatened to quit, and it took Billy a whole two hours to calm her down and explain, a pamphlet on his hand, that it was due to the disease. 

Of course, by then, the neighbors had already called the cops, and Billy had a very uncomfortable reunion with Jim Hopper, who looked grayer and sounded raspier than ever. Probably due to the overuse of cigarettes, considering that he smoked four in the forty-five minutes he talked to Billy outside. 

Hopper, it seemed, knew entirely too much. “Does he recognize you at all?” He asked, scrutinizing Billy through his sunglasses, which, impossibly enough, seemed like they were the same he wore the last time he saw the man before leaving Hawkins. 

“Usually no.” He answered. Took a beat. “How do you know?” 

Hopper chuckled. “El and Max are still thick as thieves.” Ah. Maxine, of course. Billy rolled his eyes. “Hey, don’t complain, kid. She’s just looking out for you, God knows why.” 

“I’m fine, thanks.” Billy assured him, perhaps a little bit rude. He didn’t mean it, it was just-  _ respect and responsibility _ . Hopper wasn’t Neil, but it was still too close. 

“Like you were before?” Hopper challenged, and then huffed. “Look. Max wants to reconnect with you or something, and without your old man you seem to have growed up into a better person than you were before.” He pointed out. “Take your chance. You’re not alone anymore, whether you like it or not. If Max’s in, we’re all in.” 

He couldn’t imagine pushing her away. Not now. “OK.” Billy agreed, digesting it all. “OK. Would you-” He stopped himself, pondering. “I’m not very trusted around here. Some neighbors don’t even know me. Do you think you could maybe help me talk to them?” He asked. “Explain the illness, maybe how to proceed if he goes out or something happens and I’m not around.”

Jim watched Billy for a beat and threw his cigarette on the floor, stepping on it. “Might as well. Else I feel like I’ll get calls for this place every week.” 

The younger man nodded his thanks, and grabbed the pamphlet from the hospital. 

Maybe Tuesday hadn’t been so bad after all. 

* * *

“Billy?” Neil’s voice called in the middle of the night. “Billy? BILLY!” He stumbled from his bed; this wasn’t just a bad dream his dad was having. 

He arrived to his dad thrashing against his sheets on the bed, and helped him sit up. “Billy, where is Susan? Is Maxine home yet?” 

“They’re fine, they’re fine.” He tried to assure Neil, but he wasn’t assuaged at all. 

“WHERE ARE THEY?” He screamed at the top of his lungs, “WHERE IS MY WIFE? WHERE IS MAXINE, BILLY? Why-” He hiccuped, sobbed, looking around, his eyes wide, probably taking in Billy’s age, his hair, his stance. It was all different, of course, but time didn’t mean the same for someone with Alzheimer, he knew. Time meant nothing. “Who are you?”

“I’m Billy, dad, it’s me.” He assured the man in a calm tone, as the pamphlet said. “I just cut my hair, that’s all.” 

Neil stopped, took a breath. He still looked wired, so afraid. He settled back against the bed. “Told you to cut that hair years ago, boy. Looked like a faggot.” 

Billy rubbed his eyes with his hands. “I did cut it, dad. It’s short, see?” 

“Yeah, I see it.” He turned to the side, sounding sleepy already. “No faggots in this house. Respect-” 

“And responsibility.” Billy completed, watching as his dad went back to sleep as suddenly as he had woken up from it. “I know, dad. I know.” 

He left the bedroom; went to the kitchen. Poured himself a single finger of whiskey; sat on the couch. When he turned the TV on, reruns of Fall Guy were on. 

Billy didn’t get an ink of sleep after that. 


	6. Chapter Six

“Max,” A few days later, after being guided to her office by one of the employees, he called her name at her door. “The clerk told me that if I had a suggestion I have to take it on to you.” He looked sheepish, felt sheepish. 

Her eyes went to his face. “Is it something about the inner workings or about purchases?” She asked him professionally. 

“Hm.” Billy hesitated. “Purchases.” Was his answer. “I can pay.” 

“I know you can.” Max assured him. “But it’s Steve who deals with that. He’s in his office.” 

He bit his lower lip. “Can’t I just talk to you and you take up to him?” 

Maxine stood up, rolling her eyes. “Hell no.” And grabbed him by the shoulders, guiding him to the other door on the hall with surprising strength. “Be a grown-up and talk to him. You can do it.” She pat his arm condescentingly. 

Billy rolled his eyes and sighed. Then knocked on the door. “Come on in.” Harrington’s voice called, and Billy entered his office. 

It looked much like Max’s. “Hey.” 

“Hi.” Harrington answered, looking, once again, surprised. 

“Max said if I had to ask for the store to buy something, I had to talk to you.” He explained his unusual presence there. 

The man nodded, motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a sit.” 

Thanking him, Billy sat down, fiddled with the shopping bag a bit before talking. “You know my old man’s got it bad.” He started. 

“Max said it’s Alzheimer.” Harrington agreed. “How far along?”

“He doesn’t recognize me half the time.” He answered. “But he recognized his beer. I can’t give him any alcohol, so I change the bottles.” 

“But then you need the non-alcoholic stuff.” Steve concluded for him. “Sure, how many does he drink a month?” 

“He went through almost fifteen this week.” Billy rubbed his eyes with his hands. He was tired. “So I guess four times that.” 

“OK.” Harrington took notes, looking non-judgemental. “If you need to just change labels, we can work something up for you as well.” 

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.” He said in an almost-sigh. Felt like a hundred years old. 

Harrington was looking at him funny. “You alright, man?” 

Billy chuckled bitterly. “Define ‘alright’.” 

The other man nodded. “I know it’s not the same, but I had a grandma who had it too.” He said. “If… if you ever want to talk, we can. I don’t know. Have a beer or a coffee.” He suggested. 

“This is gonna sound really asshole-y,” Billy answered. “But I really don’t want anybody to pity me.” 

“That’s fair.” Steve decided. “But this isn’t pity. This is compassion, I’d say.” 

He pondered. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to have the guy who owns half the town on my side in this.” He almost couldn’t hide his smirk. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Maxine exaggerates.” 

Billy smirked. “I somehow doubt that, but alright.” He stopped again. “I… I also wanted to apologi-” 

“Yeah, no need for that.” Harrington cut him. “You remember Eleven, right?” 

“The girl with the freaky powers, Max’s friend.” 

“Yeah, her.” He continued. “Well, when Starcourt… happened.” Steve looked sheepish. “She had a way into your brain. Your memories.” 

Billy nodded. “I… felt it. Her flipping through my head, I felt it.” And wasn’t that a weird thing to say. 

“She told us that, but refused to talk about it for like, eight months. And then she started going to therapy, talked about that, and therapists are legally obligated to do something about child abuse, neglect or endangerment.” He looked serious, watching for Billy’s reaction. “She didn’t want to spill the beans, but Max wouldn’t stop crying. She knew some things, of course, but-”

“She was never home for any of it.” Billy confirmed. “Neil and Susan had an… agreement.” 

It was Harrington’s time to rub his face. “Fuck, man. This is so fucked up.” 

Billy shrugged. “It was what it was.” He answered. “No point in denying, no point in trying to change it.” 

“Yeah.” Harrington agreed after a beat. “Yeah. But, I mean, in the end Hopper flipped out that this was happening, tried to arrest your dad, but he had no proof, and you weren’t around. Max couldn’t testify, since she never saw anything, and Susan wouldn’t say anything.” He recounted. “It was a whole thing.” 

It was eleven years ago, but his story was out there. His scars, wounds, shame, for everyone to see. “I see.” 

“So, I don’t pity you.” Harrington explained. “But I also don’t think you’re that asshole anymore, and while you were, you were with good reason. I bet you wouldn’t have survived if you were any less of an asshole at that time.” 

He still wondered about that. Would his dad have killed him? For being a fag? He looked at Harrington for a few moments. “I still wish I hadn’t beat you up like that.” 

Steve opened a big smile and leaned back on his chair, less serious. “Yeah, don’t worry about that. I was so babied after that with the whole  _ oh poor Steve _ shebang, that I actually forgot how to use a coffee maker by myself, since everyone did everything for me.” He chuckled. “It was pretty awesome.” 

Billy chuckled. He wanted to tease him, but wasn’t sure it was ever going to be appropriate anymore. “Alright then.” He stood up, offered his hand for shaking. “Thank you, Harrington.” 

“Glad to help.” His handshake was warm. “Guess I’ll see you around the store, then.” He hesitated. Billy waited. “Well, we’re having this thing at my house. You know everybody. It’s tonight at eight.” He bent down to quickly scribble what was probably his address on the back of a card. “You should show up. If you can.” 

Yeah, that didn’t seem like a good idea. “I can only show up by nine, if that’s OK.” He answered, eyeing the card. “Neil takes his sleeping pills by eight. Neighbor told me she was glad to watch him if I needed a night out.” 

The other man smiled. “Perfect, it’s fine. Nobody arrives on time anyway.”

“Should I bring something?” Billy asked, a bit awkward. 

“No, it’s fine.” He answered. “Max can’t cook for shit, so we’re buying takeout.” 

Why… did Max  _ live _ with Harring-  _ oh _ . Oh. OK. How didn’t he see it before? Their rings matched and everything. “Alright.” He answered. That was probably why Harrington was talking to him at all. Max’s father was out of the picture, her mother lived far away, and she seemed to want to reconnect with Billy for some stupid reason. He probably wanted some kind of  _ family _ approval of what they were doing. “Today at nine. I hope you don’t mind if I give my neighbor your number. So she can call if he wakes up, or something happens.” 

“No, it’s fine.” Harrington still had that stupid big smile on. “See you there.” 

“Yeah.” Billy agreed and turned, leaving the office in a slow pace. “See you there.” 

* * *

That afternoon he had nothing to do, so he ended up baking, to his own surprise, the surprise of the caregiver, and Neil’s eternal dissatisfaction, as he mumbled homophobic slurs towards him the whole while. He did eat two of Billy’s pumpkin muffins, however, so he counted it as a win. It had been Claudia’s recipe - she taught him how to quiet his mind focusing on baking when he was too worked up. He’d have to thank her for that, somehow. 

He had already arranged things with Mrs. Norris before leaving, and she assured him they would be fine. She was such a sweet woman, he gave her a few extra muffins for that.  _ Someday you’re gonna make a fine husband to some very lucky person, Billy _ , she told him, and  _ lucky person _ , he noticed. 

He took the muffins to his car and drove to the address scribbled on Harrington’s card. It was a house, two floors, white-picket fence and everything. He wondered if they had gardeners. They did have sprinklers, which was… something. 

People were already in, Billy could hear the noise and laughter from the inside. He steeled himself, holding the basket of muffins and the bottle of white wine, and walked to the front door. It seemed like forever -  _ ten breaths, Billy, you gotta take ten deep breaths _ \- before he was able to raise his hand and actually ring the bell. 

Max appeared, smiley and flushed, probably from booze. “Billy!” Her eyes fell to the muffin basket. “Oh my God. What is this? It smells amazing.” And guided him inside with a hand on his forearm. 

“Are you high?” He asked her, suspicious. 

“What? No,  _ dad. _ ” She rolled her eyes while they crossed the hallway. “Who baked these?” 

“Me.” Billy answered. Her eyes widened once again. 

“You bake?” She stopped walking. “What the hell did Kentucky do to you?” 

Billy shrugged again. “Can’t a single guy know how to bake muffins?” 

Maxine pondered and said nothing, guiding him to the dining room, where everybody else was. 

He felt intimidated by how everybody suddenly looked at him, but, well, it was normal, right? He arrived late and all. Harrington came to his rescue, though. 

“Hey, you came!” He walked to Billy. “Come on, bring those muffins to the kitchen before they ruin people’s appetites.” 

He followed Harrington inside the kitchen. It was small, and the first thing he noticed were the named mugs stacked one over the other on the sink. There was  _ Steve, Max  _ and  _ Dustin.  _

“He lives here too?” Billy asked, pointing at the mug as Harrington put his basket on the table and the wine on the cooler. Fancy ass dude. 

“What?” He seemed confused and then nodded. “Yeah. Seems like I never really quit the babysitting job.” He said. 

They went back to the kitchen, and Max was peering at them from the table. “Steve! Bring the muffins here!” 

“You’ll ruin your appetite.” Was his answer. Billy almost laughed. When was Max ever  _ not _ hungry? Some things never really changed. 

“Are you sure you’re not high?” Billy piped, amused at her antics.

“Steve doesn’t allow weed at the house.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Never thought you’d let any man tell you what to do.” He sat beside her, his appointed place, apparently. “Even if that man was your fiance or something.” 

Maxine narrowed her eyes. “What did you say?” 

He stopped, eyebrows up. “What did I say?” 

“You-” Maxine huffed. “You think I’m engaged to  _ Steve? _ ” 

The other… young people, he thought, he couldn’t think of them as  _ children _ still, but - they were all weirdly quiet. Of course, Henderson wasn’t there yet, but still. Byers and Wheeler were sitting side to side, ganglier and taller than ever; Eleven sat next to them on an armchair, and Sinclair wasn’t around. He took the time to take it all in and think. 

“Billy! You think I… you think I  _ slept my way into a job _ , or something?” Max captured his attention again by hitting him right on the chest, and it was like… like pressing a button. He shut his eyes, breathing hard, and the girl, Eleven, was next to him in a heartbeat. 

“Don’t.” She told Max, looking serious. 

The redhead frowned, and then her eyes widened in realization. “Oh, fuck. Oh my, God, Billy, did I hurt you? Are you OK?” 

Billy had his eyes open already, everybody was watching him. He offered her a lopsided smile, making little of it all. “When am I ever not OK?” He tried to joke, messing with her hair. 

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to do. “You asshole! You’re not OK!” He had to have a talk to her about boundaries, apparently. Someone had to, because she simply started to open his shirt right there, looking frantic. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Maxine!” He pulled his shirt back together, horrified. The scars were… there. They never really faded, their color never really changed much. His chest was a little less purple, but that’s as far as he had gone. “You didn’t  _ hurt _ me, you just hit the wrong place. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, and the naked concern on her eyes melted him a little more. 

“Yeah, Max. I’m good.” He put his hand over hers, which was still over his chest - thankfully not visible. 

“I can help.” Eleven spoke again, standing beside him. Max’s hand retreated, and hers spread through his chest.  _ Boundaries,  _ those girls, honestly. “There are still remnants of the upside down inside of you.” She revealed. 

He had figured that before. No surprises there. “Is it affecting me somehow?” He ignored the horrified faces around him. 

“No.” Eleven guaranteed. “The tissue around it encapsulated it. Back then I wasn’t powerful enough to take it out, so I got your body to isolate it.” She explained. “But now I am.” 

Billy nodded and studied her face. Her hair was longer, and she looked like Max, older, but still so damn young. But she had a depth to her, he could see that - she touched darkness. He knew the feeling. “Can I talk to you later?” 

She smiled. “Of course.” And sauntered back to her armchair, apparently unaware of how freaked out the people around her looked. She probably built resistance to that long ago. 

The front door opened with an audible bang and everybody jumped as a voice stated “I’m here! I’m here!” over and over, until Henderson appeared by the dining room’s door. He immediately made a face. “Dude. It’s been like, ten years. Haven’t you learned to button your shirt yet?” 

Billy fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

“I did it, you moron.” Max jumped from her seat. “I thought I hurt him, so I wanted to see.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever-” And then,  _ then _ , the fucking unthinkable happened. Unthinkable, because Max walked up to Henderson and fucking  _ kissed him on the mouth _ .

Billy couldn’t help it, he fucking grimaced at the scene, tearing laughter from the guys on the couch and Harrington. He said nothing, though. He was getting better at that. 

“What?” Maxine asked once her lips were away from Henderson’s. Fuck, fuck Billy’s life, honestly. 

“Didn’t say anything.” Billy shook his head. “I plead the fucking fifth here. I ain’t saying nothing.”

“You better!” Henderson cried out, but Max pushed him. 

“Fuck you, you don’t get to talk to my brother like that.” She raged, and Billy’s eyebrows shot up. She had to miss family, he pondered. Everyone had one close, even Eleven, who was technically an orphan. 

“He’s a psycho!”

“Oh my GOD, Dustin, that was eight years ago.” She rolled her eyes very dramatically. “You gotta get over that, Steve did.” 

“Steve is probably shaking inside and hiding it for your sake!” Henderson accused and Billy had to bite his lip to keep himself from bursting in laughter. “He’s still buff as hell, probably runs a fight club or something!” 

“Ugh! You and that stupid book!”

“Hm, I run a mechanic shop.” Billy corrected him. 

“That’s even worse! He’s hammering metal the whole fucking day, what do you think he can do with my fragile face?” Henderson was pretty hysterical. 

“Dude, whatever I can do to your fragile face, she can do way worse.” He reminded Henderson, shrugging. “I would stop talking. Like, right now.” 

Henderson was about to open his big mouth again, but then his eyes switched from Billy to the murderous expression of Max’s face, and he stopped. Pondered. And then shut up. 

“Oh my God, I love you. You’re my favorite person in the world right now.” Harrington stood up from the table, looking at Billy. “You actually made him shut up! This is magic!” 

Billy smiled. “It’s not me, it’s Maxine’s death glare.” 

“She does that every day, man, it lost its power already.” Dustin said, but still cowered to the corner when she did looked at him again. 

“Yeah, don’t think so. Works on me after eight years of not seeing her, I’m pretty sure it works on anyone but Eleven there. But she can move stuff with her mind, and they’re friends, and women are weird, so.” He shrugged again. 

“You’re twenty-six years old and women are still weird to you?” Max challenged him, head cocked. 

“You keep trying to embarrass me, you won’t get any muffins, swear to God.” He replied. 

“He brought muffins?” Dustin seemed surprised. 

“He  _ baked _ muffins, which is more than you did your whole  _ life _ .” Maxine decided, and the doorbell rang. “Food arrived! Let’s eat.” She ran to get to the front door, Dustin mumbling about poison at her heels. 

Billy couldn’t help it. He eyed Byers, Wheeler and, hm -  _ girl Hopper _ \- at the couches by his side, looking confused. “How the hell did  _ that _ happen?” He asked, meaning the Dustin-and-Max-are-getting-married-apparently thing. 

The three of them shrugged. “We have absolutely no idea.” Wheeler answered. 

“And we are kind of scared to ask.” Byers admitted. He always liked Byers, good kid, that one. 

“She said something about him having no teeth for a while made his tongue stronger.” Eleven piped in. “I’m not sure why is that a good thing.” 

Billy exchanged a look with Harrington. “We should get the plates.” Harrington stood up quickly, heading to the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I’ll help.” He stood up, going after him. “And open the wine. I need wine.” 

“ _ Yes, please _ ,” Harrington agreed and Billy couldn’t help but laugh. Fucking hell. 

* * *

“Food” ended up being  _ pizza _ . Billy almost regretted bringing the muffins. 

“This is the best thing I ever ate.” Harrington said while he chewed on one of them, while all the other scattered around, mouths too full to speak. Even Dustin was on his second one, despite claiming that they were all poisoned, like he was some sort of Snow White stepmother or something. “You gotta give me the recipe.” 

Protests rose amongst every person in the room who wasn’t Billy or Steve. 

“No, man.” Wheeler Started. 

“You always do that.” Byers continued. 

“Give it UP!” Max cried out. 

“What?” Billy asked the… kids, fuck it, they would always be kids to him. “What’s it?” 

“Steve can’t cook.” Dustin announced neatly, despite his mouthful. Strong tongue indeed. 

“What?” Billy looked surprised. Of course. Steve Harrington had always been the hen mother to those kids - how the hell did he feed them all? “Oh my God, have you been feeding them  _ takeout _ for  _ eight years? _ ” 

The guy had the gall to look sheepish, confirming the revolting theory. The kids laughed around them. “Oh God, this is too good.” Wheeler weezed. 

“He’s been filling you with  _ toxic  _ chemicals and you  _ laugh? _ ” Damn those kids were weird. “Do you fucking know what’s in takeout stuff? It lasts for  _ years _ ,  _ outside _ the fridge. Not even ants or fungi want it!” 

“That’s your standard?” Max asked him, still laughing. “Ants and fungi?” 

“Smarter than us.” Billy reminded them. “Harrington, honestly. I thought you knew better.” 

“I can’t cook!” He protested. “They are all adults now!” 

“Yeah, but you got them used to it. Hooked on that poison.” Billy shook his head. “You should have hired someone, or charmed your way into having one of their moms make you all casseroles or somethin’.” He was so fucking disappointed. “Man, you have no game. What the hell.” 

“You’ve been here for like, two hours, and you’re already speaking of seducing the guy’s moms.” Max rolled her eyes. “That’s disgusting, Billy.” 

“Never said anything about seducing.” He reminded her. “Older women like to be flattered, because their husbands often forget to. It’s a fair trade, a couple of well-placed compliments in exchange for food that would be tossed in the bin by the following day.” 

“Oh yeah.” Wheeler’s time to roll his eyes. “So much better.” 

“I think it’s nice.” Eleven opined. “He wants to make them feel good about themselves. They want to thank him for it, and encourage him to do it again.” 

“See.” Billy shrugged. “The hero has spoken. Done deal. Stop complaining and eat your muffins.” He grabbed one, taking a bite. “Takeout, Jesus Christ.” 

“You could come cook for us.” The redhead devil he called a sister suggested, that smug expression on her face. 

“Max-” Harrington started, but Billy interrupted him. 

“I could teach you how to cook, so you never have to rely on takeout again.” He counter-proposed. 

“You could also teach us how to fix cars!” Henderson, oh, Henderson. 

“Why the hell would I do that if I can make you pay for that?” 

The guy pouted. “Please?” The gall on that boy. 

“What are you going to pay me for that?” He asked, but there was no heat to it. Maxine liked him, God knew why. He would play nice for her sake. 

Dustin hummed. “I work, but I don’t have that much money to pay you.” He looked like a lost, disabled puppy. 

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Billy leaned back for effect. It had been some time he aimed for that. Felt good to stretch instead of hunch. “I’ll teach you, and you’ll pay with a price that Max will establish. She’ll make sure it’s fair.” He decided. “For the love of God, though, if it’s something sexual between you two,  _ I don’t want to know. _ I really, really don’t, there is no bleaching my mind, so. No.” 

Maxine just kept smiling smugly, the (not so) little shit. “You’re bribing your way into my good graces. Nice move, Hargrove.” 

“Watch it, Mayfield.” He took another sip of the wine. “Who wants to learn how to cook?” They all rose their hands, very school-like. It was cute. “Alright. But the muffin recipe is out of the deal.” 

Everybody protested. 

“ _ Unless, _ ” He continued, a cunning smile on his face. Oh, he was going to enjoy this. “Byers, kid, you gotta forgive me here, but I saw your mom,” He pointed at him. “With your dad,” He pointed at Eleven. “Together. Like,  _ together _ , kissing and holding hands and shit. And I gotta know how the hell  _ that _ happened.” 

Byers groaned and Eleven smiled. Henderson, of course, screamed like a crazy person. “DEAL!” 

They shook hands, Dustin trying to outstrength him during it. He repressed a chuckle. 

Oh, yes. He was going to enjoy this. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Billy got home late and by morning he woke up to his old man already up and about, a mug of coffee in his hand, TV on on another channel that only put up reprises. Billy started on his breakfast when his father started his daily sermon. 

"Cooking is for women, boy." Was how he always started. "Where are Susan and Maxine?"

"Trip to her sister, remember?" He reminded him daily. No use in contradicting and escalating it. 

"She should have left someone to help." He grumbled, angry to push a coffee maker's button. 

"It's fine, sir. It's just making food. Even in the army guys do that." He tried to divert it. Sometimes it worked. 

Not this time. "Yeah, and they are the ones biting their pillows while the others pretend that they are girls." He got angry at Billy’s lack of reaction, too. “Hear me, boy? I won’t have any faggots in this house.” 

“Yes, sir.” Those words were his way out of the tunnel, the faster gear out. 

“You used to walk around with that long blond hair like a woman.” Neil continued. “I’m amazed nobody beat you up for that.” 

_ Besides you? _ Billy said nothing. But God, he wanted to. 

“Didn’t anybody beat you up at school for being a fag?” He continued, poison pouring from his lips with a smile, as if it was OK to be this toxic. He even chuckled. “I would’ve, back in the day. But then again, back then we were real men. I don’t think your generation even knows what that is anymore. All fags, born during that stupid hippie thing.” 

“Ma was a hippie.” Billy reminded Neil, careful to hold no inflection to his voice. 

“And that’s your problem.” He snorted. “I thought I could shape you up into a man, but that’s impossible. You’ll always be a wuss, no matter what length your hair is.” The older man started channel surfing again. 

And Billy thought about it. He thought about Marcus, the guy who worked with them at the shop, who showed up at a bar on a Friday night dressed like a woman, and wasn’t any less of a man except for those times. He thought about Tracey, who was a man in a woman’s body and worked his ass off, maybe more than everybody else there. He thought about Burt and Brad, the two elderly veterans who lived together near the shop and passed the shop holding hands during their daily walks. Billy thought about Enrico and Claudia, and shook his head to do away with the thought. 

No use in trying to bring back the past. 

* * *


	8. Chapter Eight

He found himself pulling over on Harrington’s driveway. Billy had no idea what he was doing there, but he got out of the car anyway. Walked to the front porch and rang the bell, waiting to be received. 

He would be damned if he let Neil win. 

Harrington was the one who answered. Surprisingly enough, as his eyes met the other man’s, he realized it wasn’t him he was there to see. 

“Is Max home?” He asked. His face probably betrayed at least a bit of his emotions, because Harrington didn’t even complain about how rude he was being, not even properly saying good night or anything. 

“Ahm… yes. Yes she is. Come on in.” Harrington told him and guided him inside. 

“Think she would mind if I came to her bedroom?” He asked, still not looking into Steve’s eyes. “Assuming Henderson isn’t there, I guess.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” Steve informed him. “It’s the last door to the right, upstairs.” 

While Billy nodded his thanks and went forward, heading up, - he felt a little dizzy. He felt a little like the world was about to tilt a 180º, but he  _ wanted  _ it to. He so wanted it to. 

He walked to what was supposed to be Maxine’s door and knocked. “Max? It’s me, Billy.” He said, volume low. 

He heard some scrambling inside. The door opened a little and Max’s head peeked in, looking a little ruffled, a little suspicious, very confused. “Billy? What are you doing here?” 

“I’d like to talk to you. Privately.” He asked her, and she didn’t hesitate before opening her door wide, even though she was on her pajamas already. He came in, looking around. It was very uncharacteristically pink. Somehow, all that energy of the color suited her. 

“Can I…?” Billy hesitated again, and she motioned around. 

“Sit anywhere, it’s OK.” She, on her turn, laid on her stomach, face propped by her hands, looking at him. He relished on that trust she had on him. He’d have to explain to her why, though, and he wasn’t looking forward to that part of the conversation. “So. What’s up.” 

He got the chair from her desk and pulled it in so he could sit facing her. That wasn’t going to be easy at all. “OK. I wanna tell you something that you probably already know, but it’s important for me to say it. And for now I think you’re the only one I trust to say it to.” 

She remained quiet, respectfully waiting for him to gather his wits. Damn, he loved that little demon. 

“Alright. You know, when my dad married your mom-”

“Oh, no. This is gonna be long and boring and I need a coke-”

“Will you let me speak?” He must have looked a little frenzied, because she stopped her whining and sat back down. Billy took a few breaths. “When my dad married your mom, you were just a kid, but I was already entering my teenage years. So one day, my dad came to me to give me a warning.”

“Respect and responsibility?” She rolled his eyes. 

“He was worried that I’d get ideas about you.” He explained, and fuck, that hurt to say. The shame burned hot in his chest, esophagus melting from the heat. 

She seemed to have the same reaction. “What?” And then anger. “How could he think that of you? His own  _ son _ ?” 

“Because  _ he _ thought those things. Not necessarily about you, I wouldn’t know about that, but my dad… he’s incapable of some stuff.” Billy said with difficulty. 

“Like empathy?” She offered ironically. “Caring? Love?” 

“Yeah. All that.” Billy agreed. “And the thing he said back then… I couldn’t deal with that. Still kinda can’t. He was horrible and I started being horrible to you for a whole bunch of reasons, but that… that was the main one. Because I thought he’d think I was abusing you if we ever got along.” 

“Oh my God.” She sat up. “Billy, that’s-”

“Horrible, I know.” He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “I know. But bear with me. This talk happened, I was horrible. I obviously never felt anything about you that way, I mean, we were raised together. People don’t, shouldn’t, work that way, I think. No matter what, in my brain your label is ‘sister’, it has never changed and it never will.” 

Max smiled. “OK, so. What then?” 

“What then?” Billy chuckled, but it was dark, hurtful, just like what was about to come. “You grew up, that’s what happened. And so did I. And he noticed that I never looked, I never peeked. And he confronted me about it.” 

“But… why?” She frowned. “Wasn’t that what he wanted?” 

“Yes and no. He didn’t want me to  _ do _ anything, but he sure as hell wanted me to think it.” Billy explained, feeling the nausea coming hand-in-hand with those words. “Because to him that was proof of masculinity. It was proof that I liked girls and that I had to be watched around ‘em.” 

“That is… completely fucked up. Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with him?” Maxine looked horrified. 

“Yeah, no idea.” He agreed with her. “But that made me notice myself. Of course I didn’t expect to feel anything about  _ you _ , I mean.” He grimaced and she gave him the tongue. “Yeah, that. I wasn’t supposed to, just like you’re not. I can find you objectively pretty, but I’d never feel attracted to you.” Billy shook his head. “But then again… I also never felt attracted to any girls anyway.” 

The young woman paused, cogs turning into her quick brain. “Okay.” 

“And… and-” He sighed loudly. This was harder than he expected. “And I had friends. Guy friends. I- I admired them, was close to ‘em and all, but I never thought more of it. I think…-” He paused again. Took a deep breath, like Enrico taught him. “I have this friend, he studies psychology at a community college back in Kentucky. He says that Neil beat me and twisted my, my  _ preferences _ into so many perverse things, not only calling me... - not only calling me a  _ fag _ , or a  _ pussy _ , or saying that  _ guys like me _ were raped in the army, and things like that, that… that I…” Breathing was so hard. 

She looked a bit like she pitied him, and he hated it. “You never even let yourself want anyone.” Maxine completed for him. “Did you?” 

Billy shook his head. “I let it mold me. I had no way of fighting back, back then.” 

Maxine shifted forward, offering him her hand. He held it, just because. 

“Max,” It was expected, but he needed it. He needed to say the words. “Max, I think I’m gay.” 

She was not surprised. He was not surprised. They just sat there, holding hands. 

“I had my suspicions.” Maxine broke the silence. “But I didn’t know, and didn’t want to pry. You had enough problems already, even though you were a jerk. Now I know why.” 

“I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s OK.” She squeezed his hand in reassurement. “Now, I guess this will sound weird, but I feel good that you trust me with that kind of thing. It’s a big step, coming out, even if just to me.” 

Billy just nodded dumbly. That was all a lot. He felt a bit numb after all the intensity. 

“I gotta ask, though.” Her voice brought him back again. “Do you… have like, a boyfriend or something? Or… maybe wanna have one?” 

Billy shrugged. “In Kentucky I fell for a guy. He’s straight, though. Married to a wonderful gal.” 

Maxine looked a bit taken aback. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. They both know, and like me like family, and they don’t care.” He sniffed even though he wasn’t crying. Maybe he should be. “I got over it.” 

“So no one now?” She insisted. 

“In Hawkins, Indiana?” He arched one eyebrow. “Living back with my dad? Don’t think so.” 

“Oh no, hell no!” She let go of his hand abruptly. “You can’t let your dad stop you! Not anymore, that’s ridiculous!” 

“I don’t wanna make the situation worse, Max. He doesn’t even remember that you and your mom moved out, imagine if he  _ sees _ something, or if-”

“Then what? You’ll let him beat you?” Her frown was very serious. It was almost cute. “It’s time you live your life, Billy. You’ve waited long enough.” 

He sighed again. “Yeah, I know.” Looked at her face. “It’s why I came to tell you. I wanted you to know. Feels like this makes things more real.” 

She nodded in understanding. “Do you… maybe wanna sleep here?”

Billy frowned, but instead of just saying no, he let himself feel it. Did he want to? “Yeah.” He agreed. He did want to. “Is that alright?” 

“If it wasn’t I wouldn’t have invited you.” She scooted back on her double bed, giving him space. Billy took off his shoes and the jacket before laying beside her. Maxine didn’t ask, she just grabbed his hand and held it again. 

“Won’t Harrington or Henderson find this weird?” He asked, his father’s words too rooted in his head. 

“They can go fuck themselves if they do.” She answered breezily. He chuckled. 

“Thanks, Max.” He told her. “I mean it.” 

“I know you do. I’m awesome.” She replied. “Now go to sleep.” 

He nodded, and did, falling asleep easier than he had ever since he came back to Hawkins. He had to wake up early, and she was going to yell at him in the morning, but Max knew, and it was OK. It was OK. 

He was going to be OK. 

* * *

The following morning Billy had expected some awkwardness, but none came. Not Harrington nor Henderson questioned him being there at seven a.m. in the morning in their kitchen. Granted, they were both only half-awake at that point, awkwardly scrambling for the coffee pot while Billy, used to being up early, unpacked some freshly-bought bread and breakfast groceries. 

“Oh my God, you bought food,” Maxine actually  _ hugged him _ when she saw the table properly set for the first meal of the day. He had made eggs and bacon and a few other things he could concoct quickly for the meal. 

“Yeah, you heathens, I brought food.” He replied with a half-smile. 

“He… he  _ made _ food too.” Henderson poked his eggs with his fork. “Did you sleep here?” 

“He slept in my room.” Max announced, filling her plate. She knew his cooking from the rare moments he did a nice thing during her childhood - a mercy compared to Susan’s cooking. 

“OK, so we’re kicking you out and giving him your room.” Harrington offered his own announcement to Max, already halfway through his plate. “This is delicious.” 

“It’s just bacon and eggs, chill out, Harrington.” Billy rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised you’re all still alive, considering the amount of frozen stuff I found in your fridge.” 

“Yeah,” Max agreed, making a pouty face at him. “So you’ll be here to save me from the toxins, right?” 

“I’m going to save you from your ignorance about cooking.” Billy corrected her. “If you learned anything from your mom, it’s time to unlearn it. I’ll teach you some proper cooking skills and then you’ll go from there.” 

“I think that’s dangerous.” Henderson piped. “After all, we’re only like, half awake until we’ve had at least two mugs of coffee. Should we really be messing with fire and stoves by then?” 

“Well, you better wake up earlier then.” He warned the other boy. “After all, you get trash food into my sister, I’ll make you eat trash. If you’re engaged to my sister, you’re treating her right, hear me?” 

Henderson sighed. “Yeah, that’s fair. Alright.” 

“Yeah, OK.” Billy looked around. Couldn’t help but grin. “Damn, you’re all so fucked. How are you grown-ups?”

“Beats me.” Henderson admitted. “I don’t think we are, actually.” And then… then the gremlin jumped. “Oh God!” He looked from Harrington to Billy. “OH GOD!” 

“What, Dustin?” Max asked, but it seemed like she knew. 

“You always- you call Steve  _ mama _ , does that mean…?” 

She gave him the death glare. Interesting. “Shut up, Dustin.” 

“But-” 

“SHUT UP, DUSTIN.” She repeated, and it was finished. Dustin just swallowed hard. 

Billy stood up as he finished, going for the dishes, when Harrington stopped him. 

“Whoever cooks doesn’t wash the dishes.” He informed him. “Just sit around and have another mug of coffee, man. We’ll deal with it.” 

It felt… strange. To watch them eat his food with that much appreciation, and then just rest with his mugful of coffee while they washed the dishes  _ he _ dirtied without their express request, as if it was a perfectly natural occurence to cook and clean all together, being a guy and all. He knew Maxine wouldn’t be nobody’s housewife, but it was still striking to watch Harrington and Henderson at it from his seat at the dining table. 

“Hey, do you need a ride home?” Harrington asked him as they finished, getting his suit on. It was… a disaster. 

“No.” Billy stood up anyway, going straight for him. He seemed startled, almost scared; Billy couldn’t help but feeling somewhat proud of that. Perhaps he shouldn’t, but Max did pride herself on her ability to scare people, too, so it was probably OK. 

He proceeded to untie the aberration of a knot that Harrington had on his tie and brush the dust from his shoulders before tying it all over again, properly, this time. Harrington was like a stone statue under his ministrations all the while, but he didn’t protest, so that was probably OK too. 

“My car is outside.” He informed the other man once he finished, the knot straight on his neck, like he cared, like he meant something. “And it’s not because you own the place that you can just show up whichever way you want, especially if you’re the one who deals with outside sourcing. People have to actually respect you, and dressing up as if you respect yourself is part of that.” 

“I say that all the time.” Max looked smug from his side. She was dressed properly, at least.

“Yeah, you’re both cut from the same cloth, shut up.” Harrington rolled his eyes, but his neck was getting red. Shame, he figured, from being lectured at twenty-seven. Not that he didn’t deserve it, for now. 

“Well, you should probably listen to her before she de-thrones you, man.” Billy smiled, that tiny worm of pride for his sister moving in his chest again. “She will, you know?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Harrington took a step back and grabbed his briefcase. “Let’s go, then, Max. Dustin, you need a ride?” 

“I’ll get a ride with Billy.” The younger man announced, getting all of their attentions on him at once. 

“You will?” Max asked, looking from Dustin to Billy, who shrugged. He had no idea what was that about. 

“Yes. You can go!” He repeated, and Harrington and Max ended up leaving him and Henderson alone. 

“So.” Billy started, already knowing what this would amount to. “Where you going?”

“It’s my day off.” He explained very suspiciously. “I wanna help you with your dad today.” 

Billy shook his head. “Out of the question.” 

“Why?” 

“Because my dad will say things you can’t unhear. I’m used to it, but you’ll end up crying your eyeballs out and Max will cut my ear off for that.” He explained matter-of-factly. He paused, seeing Dustin’s face. “We can have a beer afterwards, how about that? Six thirty.” Billy proposed. 

“Alright. Good enough.” Henderson offered him his hand and Billy refrained from rolling his eyes, shaking the guy’s hand. 

“Should I drop you off anywhere?” Billy asked him, and he smiled. 

“You can leave me at the old shop at the fifteenth.” He informed Billy. “If it’s not too much to ask.” 

“No, it’s fine.” Billy agreed. “Isn’t that shut down, though?” 

“Yeah. People still gotta go out of town to get a car fixed.” Dustin agreed. “But I work at a biology lab and we’ve been studying the behavior of a toad that lives around that area, so I’ll go there and try to document anything I can find.” He explained, getting his backpack. “They think the skin of this specific toad can maybe be a good substitute for treating the skin of people who went through bad burns and stuff like that, but we gotta learn more about the animal itself before starting to breed them in a lab or anything.” 

“That’s… pretty smart.” He agreed. “Alright, drop you off there and then I’ll head back home. If anything had happened my neighbor would have called me, but I don’t wanna leave the caregiver alone for too long.” 

“Alright, I’m ready.” 

They entered his car and drove off. Billy still remembered where the fifteenth was. It was at the end of a very large street that used to be filled with the cars from the shop. Shop itself was normal, needed a bit of work but it was a fine shop, it was clear to see it. And the “for sale” sign at the front was dusty. The owner had probably given up hope already. 

“Thanks for the ride, Billy.” Henderson got off of his car and pointed to the little river behind the shop. “The toads usually hang around there, so I’ll see if I can observe them today.”

“Good luck, kiddo.” Billy geared the car in. “You still have that weird radio thing with you, right? If you get lost.” 

“Yeah, always.” Duston answered as if he was surprised Billy still remembered. 

Billy just nodded and drove off, leaving Henderson scampering with his stuff behind. His own cogs somewhat turning inside his head. 


	9. Chapter Nine

“I’m sorry, you want what?” 

“I want to present a business proposition.” Billy told Max, already exasperated. “I have the numbers down and everything. I just need to talk to you about it.” 

“Billy, I’m not the money girl, you know that.” She stopped him 

“Yeah, but you could talk to the money guy.” He pleaded. 

Her expression was not comforting, oh no. She was a bad sister, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. 

“Are you afraid of talking to him?” 

He paused. “Why would you say that?” 

“You are!” Maxine jumped from her chair. 

“No! I just think he likes you better, you live with him and all, so it’s easier that he’ll say yes to you than to me!” He justified himself. He was  _ not _ afraid. 

“He likes you too. I’m like a little sister, you-” 

“Yeah! You’re like a little sister! See if I can say no to you? I can’t! Same thing with him!” Oh Lord he was squealing already. Desperation was something Maxine enjoyed drawing out. He should never have come to her. What had he been thinking? 

She leaned her head on her hand, elbow on the table, that shit-eating grin still on her face. “I’ll fix you a time to talk to him, and I’ll be there. These are my terms.” She told him finally. “Also, I need you to fix Dustin’s mom’s car for me, is that alright?” 

“Of course, fine.” He assured her, already standing up. “You’ll talk to him, then?” 

“I will.” Maxine assured him. “But when I tell you to do something, you just do it, OK? I swear I’m not mocking you. It’s just… strategy.” 

Suspicious, but OK. She did want him well, he knew that.

That meant he waited. Got Dustin’s mom’s car to his dad’s place, started working on it. He needed to wait for some parts that he ordered to continue working on it, so he had to wait a week to keep going at that. When the piece arrived, Maxine called the house, sounding breathless for some reason he didn’t care fo ask. 

“BILLY!”

“Max, What’s up?” He asked, a little bit worried. She was dramatic, but it could be something important, right? 

“Billy, I heard from your neighbor that the parts you ordered for Dustin’s mom’s car arrived.” She told him, breathless. He filed that violation of privacy for later. 

“Alright, so?” 

“SO!” She continued, pitch going way too high. “You have to wait until Sunday to fix the car!”

“What?” He felt his eyes narrowing even though she wasn’t there to see it. “Why?” 

“Because! Remember! I told you, I’m handling  _ strategy _ here.” She told him. “Wait until Sunday mid-morning at least! Then I’ll drop by and Steve will see you working, know you’re serious about the whole thing, and that’s the perfect scenario for him to say yes!” 

His eyes narrowed even harder. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes! Now drop that piece of car and wait until Sunday!” 

Billy sighed. “OK, alright.” He agreed. “Sunday mid-morning. ‘m not waiting longer than that, though, the woman needs her car.” 

“Ugh, alright! See you then.” She dropped the call. 

So, by Sunday he got out at midmorning and started to work on Mrs. Henderson’s engine. It was warm; summer had hit Hawkins like a sledgehammer, but he strived to keep his shirt on - right until it was soaking wet and disgusting, which meant that it was off in a matter of minutes. He just hoped it wouldn’t look too unprofessional of him. 

By ten Harrington’s car parked up front and he stopped to talk to him and Max. He had his folder with him, but his fingers were covered in grease, his nails black around the edges. There was nothing he could do about that; no amount of scrubbing would clean his hands completely. 

“Hey,” He greeted them both. 

“Hi!” Max walked to him, looking around. “Is Mrs. Henderson’s car ready?” 

“Almost.” Billy answered, rolling his eyes on the inside. After all, she had been the one to delay him. 

“Hello.” Harrington got out of the car as well, checking the car. “So you’re the one working on it. Dustin wouldn’t tell me where the car was.” 

“Yeah, Max asked me to.” He answered, looking at said woman, waiting for her to do her thing with the plan that he knew nothing about. He just knew he had to be working on the car when they arrived and have the plan in hands. 

“Is it going to work?” She asked him, looking genuinely interested. Of course, it was her future mother-in-law’s car. 

“Of course it is. What do you think I am?” He arched one eyebrow. 

“You said you worked at a shop in Kentucky.” Harrington piped in. 

“Yeah.” He agreed, turning to him. “Made co-partner and all. I didn’t have much but I invested back. It’s how I’m staying here without a job.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Harrington seemed to remember. “No shops around town. I forgot about that.” 

“Yeah.” Billy agreed. “I found the old one. It’s still good. I’d buy it if I had the money, to be honest, but I only have thirty-five percent of what it would take. I can’t get a loan because I have nothing to give to the bank in guarantee, but I ran the numbers.” He got the folder from the hood of the car. “I’d pay back in about eight months.” 

Harrington looked at the folder, then at him. “You’re good at this. Business.” He pointed out. 

“No. Just my side of business. I can do almost all the manual work the building needs, but I gotta buy pieces and pay taxes and all that needs money. I like to know everything so I don’t need to pay an accountant.” He explained. 

Harrington looked from him to Max. “You planned this.” 

She opened a big unrepentant smile. “Of course I did.”

“Alright.” He sighed deeply. “You looked it over, then?”

“Yep.” Maxine answered. 

“What do you think?” 

“I think he’ll need five grand more than he says he will, but it’s good business.” She told him. “You can run this through Mike if you’d like, but I’d go in. It’ll be the only shop in town, and Billy works fast.” 

“He’ll need employees.” 

“I know a couple of guys who’d like to move here.” Was his answer, thinking fast. “And there are always high school seniors needing some extra money. Part time is enough for a city like Hawkins.” 

Harrington looked from Billy to Max, and then Billy once more. “You always work without a shirt on?” 

“Nope, full uniform.” He hoped he sounded professional. 

“It would be better for business if you took it off on Tuesdays.” Max was still grinning that shit-eating grin. “It’s book club at Gina’s house and all the ladies have to pass the shop. I’m sure it’d be full to the brim come Friday morning.” 

Billy pondered. “Alright, I guess. I can do that. Except for winters, of course.” He shook his head. “Almost forgot how conservative small towns like this work.” 

“Nobody admits it, but everybody wants a peek.” Max completed his train of thought. A beat passed, and she wasn’t looking at him anymore. “Steve?” 

“Uh?” Harrington looked distracted, but his eyes were still on Billy. He felt it like that breathless, weightless moment before the roller coaster falls; something cold and hot in his stomach spreading all through his skin, ants waking up every inch of his skin. 

He wasn’t sure he could inhale under the pressure, but it was exhilarating. 

“Steve!” Max snapped them out of it with a shrill. “Are you in or not?” 

“In on what?” He asked, still somewhat out of it. Then it dawned on him. “Oh! The shop! Of course, we got the money, and it’s good business plan.” He gave Billy his folder back. “You can make an appointment with Mr. Owens, the shop’s owner, in my office on Monday. I heard he’s selling directly.” 

He couldn’t help but smiling. Fuck. His own shop. “Thanks, man. Honestly. I’ll pay you back.” 

“Shirt off on Tuesdays and you’re debt-free in five to six months instead of eight.” His sister reminded him. 

“No hurry, man.” Harrington gave her an ugly look while saying that. “It’s good investment and I know you’ll work your fill.” 

_ His own shop _ . “I will. I really will. Thank you so much.” 

“No problem.” Steve said again and then looked at Maxine. “Alright, business done. Max?” 

“Oh! Yeah.” She seemed to remember it suddenly. “We came for breakfast. Dustin went out to eat with his mom and nothing opens here Saturday anymore since the mall closed.” Her smile turned sheepish. “Can we eat here?” 

He hesitated. “Dad’s home.” 

“I know.” Her tone was supposed to be comforting, but it wasn’t working. “Is he calm today?” 

“Yes.” Billy answered. “But he can snap at weird times, I don’t know-” 

“He thinks I live here still, doesn’t he?” She insisted. “I’ll say Steve’s a friend and it’s all fine.” 

Billy hesitated some more, but folded. “Alright. Come on in.” He guided them inside, dressing back his shirt. 

The weekend caregiver was writing something on the table by the window; his dad was, as always, watching TV. He didn’t notice anything until Max came in; it was probably the red hair that caught his attention. 

“Maxine. Finally home.” Neil said, barely taking his eyes from the screen. “Had fun on your friend?” 

She looked paralyzed. Billy hated to see that more than anything in the world. “Y-yeah. It was fun.” 

“Good, good.” He answered. When he turned to look at her, though, his eyes stopped on Steve, who looked like a deer caught by headlights once again. “And who is this?”

“Friend of Billy’s.” She explained quickly. “His mom isn’t home so I invited him for breakfast.” It was clear that she was digging her memory on what Neil would find acceptable. “I’m making pancakes!”

“Better make ‘em edible, girl, or you’ll never get yourself a man, no matter how pretty you are.” He commented like it was nothing, like it was something normal to say. She very discreetly took off her engagement ring. 

“Yessir.” Was her answer, but she clearly seemed bothered by lying and accepting stuff like that. So, Billy hurried. 

“Let’s go, let’s go.” He told them, guiding both to the kitchen. 

There he took out everything from the counters that he needed to make pancakes. 

“You should make this a teachable moment.” Harrington suggested from his place at the table. 

“Da doesn’t approve of men cooking.” He answered simply, not even looking at him. “He thinks it’s for faggots.”

“It’s not because he uses that word that you should use it too.” Max said, and Billy could see Harrington looked hurt by it. He wondered what would Harrington looked like if he heard what Neil said about their black neighbor. Mrs. Norris was the sweetest woman, but nothing was good enough for Billy’s father. 

“I’m just demonstrating how my father’s head works.” He answered, mixing the flour and the sugar. “If you wanna learn I can teach you. We’ll give the burnt one to him and say it was Max.” Billy dared a small smile. “With your mom’s cooking, he’ll totally believe us.” 

“If you’re sure…” Max looked around, looking so much like she did when she was just fourteen. Billy wanted to protect her at all costs, and that… that felt so much like love. 

“It’s fine, come on.” He moved sideways. Max and Harrington stood up to see what he was doing; he promptly put the bowl with the batter-to-be on Harrington’s hands. 

“This has a cup of flour and half a cup of sugar.” He told them. “Now, Max, you’ll add baking soda, milk, salt, in these proportions.” He pointed to the recipe notebook. 

She obediently started to do just that as Harrington very awkwardly stirred the mix under his eye. “You gotta stir it until there aren’t any lumps.” He continued instructing them, looking over Steve’s shoulder. 

He turned to get frozen blueberries; he had never been more conscious of somebody’s presence in a room. The thing is, Billy, despite working with his hands, or maybe because of it, did take care of himself and his body, but that did not mean that he was aware of it. Sensations like warm and cold, bruises, even cuts; Billy usually never even realized they happened. But now? His skin felt like an army of ants was walking on it, raising it back to life. It felt… exhilarating, and terrifying, at the same time. And he didn’t want to make a fool of himself, especially because there was no chance of anything happening, especially not with his father weighing on his back like that, but still. Still, even knowing it was impossible, it felt equally improbable to be able to quelsh it down like he always did, this time. 

“Is that enough?” Harrington’s voice snapped him from his daydreams. Billy finally got the blueberries and turned to see the batter. 

“More milk, Max.” He instructed her, who did it. Billy proceeded to get a pan, butter it a bit and then heat it on low fire. 

“Now you get a ladle and put just batter enough to get a thin layer over the bottom of the pan.” He explained, saying nothing about how he spilled some on the stove. He’d just wipe it out afterwards, it was fine. 

“Are you going to air-flip them?” Maxine asked, looking starry-eyed at the idea. 

He scoffed. “No way. That’s way too advanced for you guys.” 

“But you can do it!” She yapped, very excited. “Do it!” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s cool!” 

Billy looked from her to Harrington, then at her again, shaking his head. “Why can’t I ever say no to you?” 

“Because I’m your poor little sister.” Her grin was devilish. “Now do it!” 

Harrington gave him space and he sighed, grabbing the pan. Flipping the batter was easy; he did it every day, but both Max and Harrington looked impressed by it. 

In the end, they both tried; Harrington failed because he waited too long and the pancake stuck to the pan, while Max failed because she flipped it too soon, the impatient woman, and ended up with pancake batter in her hair. 

The burnt one went to Neil; Billy served a good stack for the caregiver and him, Harrington and Max sat by the kitchen to eat the pancakes. Billy himself ate slowly, after all, he wasn’t used to eating wheat in the morning. 

“Thanks for cooking us breakfast.” Harrington said as he washed the dishes and Max and him dried them. Once again… it felt weird. He didn’t know why, but something in him tightened, as if he had smelled something that he couldn’t interpret in the air. 

“‘s alright.” Was his answer, trying to sound casual. Harrington’s lips looked shiny under the light coming from the kitchen window in front of him. Their fingers touched as Harrington -  _ Steve is too dangerous  _ \- left a plate on the dish rack at the same moment that Billy grabbed it. 

It felt tingly. Suddenly, there was no air to breathe. 

“Can you finish up here? I’ll go back to work on Mrs. Henderson’s car.” He asked Max, and she looked confused while he practically ran away from the kitchen. 

He didn’t manage to go far. “You made this pancakes, didn’t you?” Neil demanded from the living room. Billy shut his eyes, anger building up in him real quick. 

“Max made them. I told you that.” 

“You’re LYING!” His dad stood up and threw the plate around, smashing it against the wall. Some blueberries rolled their way to Billy’s feet. “You’re there cooking like a damn faggot while your sister is at home!” He advanced against Billy, pushing him against the hallway wall. It was plainly visible by the kitchen, but he didn’t want to think about that. “What, are you trying to steal her boyfriend with food? Are you going out there to bend over and beg for his dick, is that it?” 

Circles, they were always going on these big circles, over and over through the same points, spiraling inwards and outwards; nothing came out, it was just drawn in and stuck there forever. That was his father’s mind, though, not his. He escaped that maze a long time ago; yes, maybe not  _ completely _ , but he did. And he refused to come back, no matter how luring the bait was. 

He put his hand on his father’s hands and got himself out of his hold, slipping out of the house. His dad was still there, yelling obscenities at him until the caregiver probably calmed him down somehow. 

But it was there, now. His dad yelled in front of Max, in front of Harrington, and he didn’t fight it. He had no idea how to deal with this. What was there to fight? A mind stuck in time, stuck in violence? The problem was that he was the target for it, and sometimes it did hit home. Billy felt like he was swallowing poison, swallowing his death, as he pushed it all down and went back to work on the car. 

He had about two minutes of silence and peace before something crashed inside. Billy was going to walk back inside, worried, when Neil came through the door holding a wooden bat. 

“Dad? What are you doing?” 

“I WILL HAVE NO FAGGOTS IN THIS HOUSE!” He yelled, and  _ damn _ . Just.  _ Damn _ . 

“Dad, you gotta drop that.” He said, trying to sound calm. He was sort of calm. And also sort of not. It was there, in plain sight, for all the neighbors. His past, displayed through his father’s re-enacting of his past, that dark time he wish was dead and buried. “You’ll hurt yourself, or somebody.” 

“Yeah I am. I am beating the faggot outta you, so you learn how to be a man!” He advanced, and his steps, to Billy, felt like they were in slow-motion. 

The bat hit Billy’s shoulder before he could move away; the second hit landed on Msr. Henderson’s car, smashing the hood. Billy was still seeing stars when he saw someone throw something at his dad, and another person sneak on his back and apply his sedative to his neck. 

Max had a cushion in her hands, the other one that she threw at Neil was laying by the small front yard; the caregiver had the syringe in her hand, and Harrington was the one holding Neil from underneath his arms, propping him up, since he was already asleep by the time the needle came out from his neck. 

“Oh my God, are you OK?” Max asked Billy, eyes all blown out from adrenalin. 

“I’m fine.” His shoulder was probably dislocated, but by now he knew how to put it back in place. 

“Your shoulder is definitely dislocated.” The caregiver assessed, coming all professional to examine him. “You need to go to the hospital.”

“No, I’m fine. I can put it back on my own.” He informed her, and damn if the pitying looks weren’t worse than the pain. Looking around, some neighbors were already looking from their front yards, and that wasn’t ideal either. “We should get him back inside.” 

“Billy-” 

"Can you get him inside? I'd do it, but-" He referred to his shoulder with his head, and the three people nodded. The women picked up Neil's legs and Harrington led inside with his torso. They deposited him on his bed and shut the door, leaving him there to sleep. 

"Billy, you can't keep going like this." Max told him just after he popped his shoulder back into its socket with the aid of a wall. Not ideal, but it was enough. He improvised a along and the caregiver got him some ice. 

"You have to get him on calming pills permanently, at least." The woman agreed. "If he is this violent towards you, and we never see when it's coming, we have to prevent it somehow."

“Yeah.” He agreed. “Didn’t know we could do that, but yeah. Can’t have him beating me or other people up.” 

“Not to mention what he says.” Harrington said, looking disgusted. Billy could even read his mind going  _ how can a father talk like that about his own son?  _

“That doesn’t bother me.” Billy shrugged, and regretted it immediately, wincing. “He’s a messed up old man. Spits venom cause he feels powerless. Never knew how to plant or grow something for himself, so there’s nothing for him to reap. No wife, stepdaughter who doesn’t see him, son who’s only here because he’s ill.” 

“You  _ pity _ him?” Maxine asked, looking angered by the thought of him feeling anything close to compassion for his father. 

“Pity and anger are the same thing. One only takes less of my energy.” He explained, already feeling more collected. “I choose to pity him, otherwise I can’t cope with having to be here.” Billy confessed. 

The room went silent untilt the caregiver talked again. “Well, I’ll put him up for some mood-stabilizing pills, at least. It’s going to help a lot for sure.” 

“Thanks.” Billy told her honestly. “And Max? Don’t worry, OK?” He let his fingers thread through her hair affectionately. “I’ll be OK.” 

She didn’t seem to believe him. For some reason, none of them seemed to believe him. But he was fine, even as they left in Harrington’s car and the caregiver left at five to take her day off. 

He was fine. He had it all under control. 


	10. Chapter Ten

By Thursday morning the papers for the shop were in his hands, and so were the keys. It was time to work. 

In the end, all the kids showed up at some point or another to help him clean up and help him fix the place, considering their breaks and free time. And, just like Max warned him, he started cleaning up with the shop’s door open, without a shirt, and voilá: the book club drove slower past him, and a couple of moms asked him a few questions about what kind of business he was planning on opening here, and to comment how good it was to see him back in town, and already owning his own business, good lord. 

They were thirsty, and he felt like a glass of cool water dangling in front of them. They could look, he s’pposed. 

Cleaning the shop up was quick;  _ fixing _ it was the real trouble. There were leaking pipes, bad wiring, flaking paint. But he pulled himself up every day and, just a week later, the shop was opening. 

“We should throw a party for the inauguration.” Max told him, legs dangling from the upstairs desk. “Nothing big or fancy, just to bring people in to see you and that the shop’s open.”

“Nope. No money for that.” Billy passed her by, carrying the basic sets of pieces that he would need, and had just arrived. All this stuff was heavy, but it felt good to put his body to some use again, instead of just sitting around his father’s house. Felt like waking up again. “They’ll see the doors open. Some of that book club you mentioned passed through when I was cleaning it up, asked me questions.” He informed her off-handedly.

“Were you shirtless?” She asked him, smug grin on. 

He could only roll his eyes. “Yeah. Felt like a piece of meat dangling in front of hungry dogs. Worse, even; dogs can behave if you tell them ‘no’.” 

“It’s good for business, Billy.” She reminded him while he had his back at her, checking the number of tools inside the just-delivered box. “Don’t you agree, Steve?” 

“Agree with what?” He asked, but quickly added. “You know what? I don’t wanna know. Whatever you say, Max.”

“Hear hear.” Billy agreed with a long-suffering sigh. “It’s useless to fight her.” 

Her smile didn’t fade. “That’s because I’m always right.” 

“OK, what are we talking about?” Harrington changed his mind, frowning. 

“Nothing-” Billy answered, at the same time that Max said:

“The proven fact that Billy should walk around the shop shirtless as much as he can to attract customers.” She swung her dangling legs back and forth. 

“What?” Harrington looked puzzled, horrified, scared. Billy knew how he felt. “Why?”

“Hawkins hasn’t got much novelty. Billy is a young, good-looking guy who just opened a car shop. Even married women like to dream.” Max said as if all that wasn’t a hundred shades of wrong. 

Harrington looked like he was choking on his own tongue. “Wha-?” He started. “Bu- whe-? What?” 

“Oh, don’t be dumb, Steve.” Maxine shook her head imperiously. “You flirt with Mrs. Jenkins to get her to let you off without a parking ticket all the time.” 

“No I don’t!” He sounded honestly offended. Billy couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“We all do it, Harrington.” He stood up from the counting, finally, and turned to them. “Get over yourself.” 

The man sputtered. “What-how-... this is outraging!”

“Outraging will be when your  _ mom _ finds out about Billy through the book club.” Max looked incredibly amused. “I mean. She told Mrs. Wheeler that she’s going next week. They’re starting Moby Dick or something.” 

“My-my-NO!” He looked almost about to cry. “You put your shirt back on if my mom ever comes over!” He demanded, pointing his finger at Billy. 

“Hey, man, I don’t know your mom.” He raised both his arms. “Can’t say I’ll recognize her unless she has a cowlick or somethin’.” Billy finished and Max started giggling. 

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” Steve cried, horrified by the idea. “Oh my  _ God _ , no, that can’t happen.” 

“Then you can just be here to help, Steve.” Max swung her legs faster. “To run the register and to make sure your mum isn’t going to see anything untowards.” 

“Max, stop being-” 

“OK.” Harrington said at the same time. Billy stopped. 

“Man, you don’t gotta do that-”

“Hey, I’m not really doing anything right now.” He assured Billy. “Max has it all under control back at the store, and this is a new business. If you need help at the beginning, until your friends get here to work, then it’s fine by me.” 

“I don’t even know if I’ll have any customers this soon after the shop is open.” Billy pointed out. “You might be here for nothin’.” 

“Not if you don’t wear your shirt.” Max insisted. “And stand out on the front, of course, so people other than Steve can see you. He already lent you the money, you don’t need to show off to him anymore.” Before they could say anything, though, she jumped from her place and ran to the front to  _ kiss a newly arrived Henderson on the mouth _ , and what the fuck was his life even. His face mirrored Harrington’s, though, and he felt better about now being alone in his mild disgust - not of the boy, but of seeing a sister/brother-figure kissing another person at all. Billy felt like he would never be grown-up enough for that. 

“So,” Harrington started, but seemed just as much at loss as him. 

“Beer?” Billy asked and the other man seemed relieved. 

He went in to grab a cold beer from the fridge; once he was back, both Max and Henderson were gone. “Where did they go?” 

“Probably to enjoy having sex in every room while I’m out of the house.” Harrington said as if his soul had left his body at that point. “I’m gonna have to clean up every surface when I get back.” 

Billy made a face. “Did you have to say that in front of me? I’m her brother, you know.” 

They both sat down on the floor with their backs propped against the wall. “Yeah, I know, but if I gotta suffer, I’m dragging you with me, man.” 

Billy took a swing of his beer, Harrington followed suit just after. “This place looks great.” He pointed out, making Billy preen a bit. 

“Sweat and blood. It’s how hard work gets done.” 

“Something your father used to say?” Harrington asked, but Billy shook his head. 

“Nope. My last boss.” Billy said. “We kinda became a cooperative afterwards, he gave up a lot so we could grow. Not that he didn’t grow as well, the shop got huge with all of us getting our hands dirty there, but still.” He shrugged. “I was, and still am, very thankful for the chance he gave me.” 

“You talk like you think you’re some sort of delinquent and should be in debt for the rest of your life to whoever gives you a hand.” Harrington assessed curtly. 

Billy shrugged again. “But ain’t that the truth?” 

“Man, you read it all wrong.” Steve shook his head. “Try to see it as an outsider. You come back home to take responsibility for your sick father. You have money in a shop in Kentucky, where you made yourself up from scratch; you care about your sister, care enough about your dad, even though he’s an asshole, to buy alcoholic beer bottles and fill them in with non-alcoholic stuff as to avoid upsetting him.” Harrington left his beer on the floor to keep on numbering things. “You can cook and plan on teaching your high-school nemesis, your sister and your sister’s fiance to cook so they stop eating trash food. You come up with a business plan all on your own, even though you have no formal education in business. Not to mention that you repaired Mrs. Henderson’s car for free, and very fast; and also fixed this place up all by hand, no help required.” 

“You make it sound bigger than it is.” Billy reminded him. 

“No, Billy. It’s exactly like that.” He answered, and god dammit if Harrington didn’t feel way too close to him. Like they could breathe each other in; fill their lungs with one another. “You’re the only one who can’t see it.” 

And, this time, there was nothing to interrupt them. There was no Maxine, no Neil, no anything. When Harrington leaned in, it felt like forever. When Billy closed the space almost fully, it felt like the small fire he had been struggling to put out in his belly gained a whole knew life and strength. His skin roared alive; he wanted it all. 

“You gotta tell me right now if I’m reading it wrong, I can’t do this-” 

“You’re not.” Billy breathed against his lips, and Harrington -  _ Steve _ \-  _ shuddered _ beside him. He felt a twinge in his lower belly; felt like shuddering, too. “You’re not.” He reassured him, both of them. 

The kiss was the clashing of eager waves, ready to entangle themselves to each other in a depth they could never define which drop belonged to who after impact. 

Billy felt on fire. His hands met Steve’s skin, his face and jaw; his chest met his through their clothes; two undersea volcanoes erupting on the direction of one another, trying to connect. He had never actually felt quite like this - at the same time, though, he had never actually been with a guy. But he would bet the shop and everything inside it that being with a random dude wouldn’t make him feel this way, like he would rather asphyxiate than stop kissing him. Like Billy wanted to give him the world, and was pretty sure Harrington would do that right back for him. 

The kissing died down slowly, it felt like he had spend a lifetime kissing Steve Harrington. By the way their lips were swollen, it probably had been a while, at least. Or that might have been all the nipping and biting when just kissing wasn’t enough; he was not sure. The thought made him smile a little, though. Totally worth it. 

They kept sitting beside each other, arms touching as they gathered back their breaths, their wits, their minds. Billy took another swing of the beer. Not the best kissing taste, but it was OK. At this point, nothing could ruin Harrington’s mouth for him. 

“So.” Steve sounded choked up. Billy wanted to laugh. 

“Yeah.” Billy agreed, licking his own lips to get a remnant of him. Steve’s eyes followed the movement, his whole face betraying a hunger that wouldn’t die out. Billy knew exactly how he felt. “ _ Yeah _ .” 

Harrington choked again, turned his head to the other side, all flushed and hot and adorable. Billy wanted to bite him all over again. 

It was late, and they should probably go home, but… “I don’t- this is new for me.” He started. 

Steve nodded. “For me too.” 

“Yeah.” Billy nodded as well. “And I don’t wanna move anything too quickly-” 

“Me neither!” He eagerly agreed. 

“But I got a mattress in here.” Billy informed him, making Steve promptly shut up. “I don’t mean we do stuff or anything, but we could just… continue doing this. Just in a more comfortable place.” 

Steve started worrying his lower lip there. “I want to,” He admitted. “But I’m not sure I can stop myself from doing… some stuff. I mean. I’m already…” 

Billy chuckled. “I’m not made of steel either, Harrington.” 

“Steve.” 

“ _ Steve _ -” That name tasted like honeysuckle in his mouth. “I’m not made of steel either. I’m up for  _ some _ stuff, just not…  _ everything _ . For now.” 

“Okay.” Steve bobbed his head up and down. “Okay.” 

Billy stood up and offered Steve his hand. Steve took it. Billy pulled him up a little too strong, and bumping into each other led to some chuckling and more kissing, something with which he was perfectly okay with. 

A-ok, indeed. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Neil’s mood-stabilizing medication came by on Monday. He was no piece of lettuce after that; Neil kept on being an asshole, as always. He was just less prone to bursting into anger as quickly as before, which was all he could want. 

And, like Maxine told him it would, the shop’s sales flew off very quickly, especially after a warm wave came over Hawkins, forcing Billy to drop every piece of non-essential clothing while working near warm engines and dark metal hoods left under the sunshine while waiting for him. 

Steve was there, helping him at the register, and his eyes ate it all - so much that he stole a few kisses here and there, hidden from the customer’s sight. It was exhilarating, and so hot, and Billy had a real hard time working with his blood all rushing south all the time because of that.

A week later and the guys he called had moved in. They settled, by the time being, in a single big rented house, and they didn’t squirm away from work, oh, no. From day one they all arrived and a twenty-minute tour later they were working they asses off, like usual. Billy had never felt that proud of himself before, to have met and kept friends such as them. 

That, however, meant that he was suddenly allowed to take time off, and it was… intimidating. Especially because there was no need for him to spend that time alone anymore, or to spend it only fulfilling his obligation to his father. But all that time with Steve… Billy couldn’t help but feel like, the longer they spent time together, the bigger the chance that Steve would find out that Billy was an asshole unworthy of his time. 

On their first semi-proper date - semi-proper because they couldn’t actually be out in the open, even though it was 1993, they were still in Hawkins, Indiana - they went to watch a movie in a drive-in, which meant they didn’t need to talk much; the mood was set for other things. But by the second date they went to an out-of-town restaurant, and conversation was clearly a reminder. 

As soon as he saw Steve, he knew Maxine had dressed them both - and to match. That little asshole. 

He looked awkwardly to Steve, who was smiling as well. They both sat down at the same time - there was no need for one to pull the chair for the other, after all. Especially because people would look. 

“So.” He started talking, and holy crap, alright. They had to talk. How about that now. “Hello.” 

“We spent half of today together.” Billy reminded him. “This isn’t supposed to be hard.” 

“Yeah.” Steve agreed, shrugging. “But now I’m trying to impress you and all.” 

“Impress me?” His brows shot up. “What for?” 

“Because you’re the town’s new hotshot.” Harrington said, not even lowering his voice. Billy felt a little feat, but most of all he felt  _ warm _ that that man was willing to speak about him like that in public; like he thought he was so hot, he just couldn’t contain himself. “And I want a piece of it.”

“Just a piece?” Billy asked him, looking him through his eyelashes. 

Harrington’s adam’s apple bobbed. “Whatever you got for me, Hargrove.” Was his answer. 

“You asking?” He asked him, leaning forward in a way that, by the way the other man licked his lips, was decidedly sexy. “Cause by me you already have it all.” 

Harrington groaned. “Fuckin’ tease. You’re not gonna let me leave this place without a stiffy, are you?” 

Billy leaned back again, shrugging. “Up to you, pretty boy.” 

“Damn.” Was Steve’s frustrated answer, and Billy chuckled. 

The waiter came in and Billy let Steve order them wine. They both ordered food, and soon enough their beverages were arriving. 

“You’re going all in, aren’t you?” Billy teased, looking at the wine. 

“Always.” Was his answer and he chuckled. “You deserve it, Billy.” 

“Why?” He frowned. “I didn’t do anything.” 

“Maybe.” Steve agreed. “Maybe none of us has done anything yet. But I feel like we don’t need to skip the romance and the good stuff from dating just ‘cause we’re dating another guy.” 

Billy thought about it. “Yeah. I guess we don’t.” He agreed. “But that makes me the girl, doesn’t it?” He leaned back on his chair, feeling uncomfortable. “Means I’m the one who’s gotta put out.”  _ Yeah, and they are the ones biting their pillows while the others pretend that they are girls _ echoed in his head endlessly. 

Steve winced. “None of us is a girl in any point of this, Billy.” 

He felt ashamed, but what else was there? “Course we gotta. Someone will be on the receiving end.” He argued. Billy knew that there was something wrong, something filthy, with his logic, but he couldn’t stop. He felt angry and didn’t want to think on the why. He didn’t want to feel like the seeds Neil threw into his head bloomed at all; but apparently he missed some that still needed plucking. 

“If that’s something that bothers you, we don’t ever need to get to that.” Harrington leaned forward and placed his hand on top of Billy’s, looking very serious. 

“Yeah.” He shut his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole.”

“Don’t worry, we both grew up in the eighties.” Harrington said with a shrug. “It’s hard work to give up on those ideas, even if we don’t like ‘em.” 

He had never been so thankful for someone else’s understanding. “Thanks.”

“You’re pretty welcome.” Steve smiled. “Now, let’s eat and drink and go through this date.” 

The food arrived, but Billy could barely pay any attention to that at all. It was good food, and Billy would definitely have to go back again to enjoy it properly later; but now all he could think about was what sort of noise Harrington would make if Billy slid down on his knees underneath the table and sucked him off. He wondered if he, himself, would enjoy the feeling of a dick in his mouth; but he suspected that what was appealing about that image wasn’t just  _ any _ dick, but Harrington’s: he wanted to cause the other man pleasure, and knew that he wouldn’t be judged or looked down upon for that. All that felt almost too good to be true, but he wanted more than anything to make himself believe in that. 

It was exhilarating. 

They were done with their dishes in record time. He couldn’t contain his smirk as his own urges were mirrored in Steve’s eyes. They split the bill, because  _ raised in the eighties _ , and when Harrington asked  _ dessert? _ Billy only smiled in response, which made him swallow dry again. 

They almost ran outside. The car felt like it was miles away, even though it was just a few meters from them; Steve touched Billy’s hand and the electricity was instantaneous. Billy pulled Steve to him and kissed him, his hands on the other man’s waist, his lower back; Harrington’s hands on Billy’s neck, shoulders and hair; and, for the very first time, breathlessness felt  _ good _ , it felt like release; it felt like exhaling a breath that had been stuck and stale inside of him for too long, and watching the receiver benefit from that energy that had been poisoning him. He felt free. 

In that spirit of freedom, he pushed Steve against the wall of the restaurant, protecting them with the shade that the lamp post couldn’t reach; and there, pressed against the wall in the semi-dark, the kiss turned wilder, more needy; Billy was pretty sure he would come in his pants like a teenager pretty quickly if they didn’t tune it down. 

He kissed Steve’s neck, then bit it; the sound he made was delicious and elicited a sound from Billy that he barely recognized as his own. He didn’t mean to go much further there, but he needed to feel some skin, so he pulled Harrington’s shirt from inside his pants just to sneak his hand underneath the fabric a bit, just to feel his lower back and sides, the warmth and softness of his skin, just a little bit closer. 

And then- right then, with them both almost completely lost to lust, something that didn’t even register in Billy’s conscious mind made him stop. It took him a second to identify it as a siren sound, not continuous, but just those quick stutters that cops sometimes did when they wanted you to pull over to the side. 

_ Fuck _ .

Billy turned just his head, and it was Hopper coming out of that truck; a cigarette in his mouth. Billy wanted to scream, and to hide, all at the same time. 

“Hi there.” He started. Steve and Billy looked at each other. Billy took a step back and turned as soon as his stiffy died. It didn’t take long at all. “Havin’ fun?” 

“Hopper, we just-”

“Spare me, Harrington.” Hopper raised his hand to shut Steve up. “You see, I couldn’t care less. You’re young, you’re into each other, there are no signs of anything wrong to me. If it was only for me, I’d drive through and pretend I never saw anything.” He explained, somewhat surprising Billy. That was not at all what he expected from an authority figure. But then again, that was no simple authority figure, was he? He had lived the same as them, had Eleven for a child. “But a woman who lives at eyeshot saw you and called the station. So, as I would do in any case, I chose to come just to tell you that you should continue that somewhere private, so that other people can’t complain.” 

“Yessir.” Steve mustered to answer as Billy just nodded his head like a crazy person. 

“Yeah, good.” Hopper agreed, and stopped them when they started to move to the car. “But hey. If anyone starts complaining about you two just kissing or holding hands in public, you know, common day-to-day stuff, you tell them to call  _ me _ , OK?” 

Billy bit his lip, imagining that conversation. “Thank you, sir.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll collect that favor when it’s time to talk to my kid about whatever the hell is happening to her, Wheeler and Byers.” He winced just saying it. Billy chuckled, even though he didn’t really mean to. “Yeah, you’re laughing but you’re doing it, Hargrove. Just wait and see.” 

“I’d do it without a favor, sir.” He said, pretty honest about it. “They’re good kids.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just go already.” Hopper gestured and Steve guided Billy by the hand to his car. 

They entered the car and watched as Hopper entered his truck and drove off. 

Then, they looked at each other and started laughing their assess off. 

“Oh my God-” Harrington said at some point, still breathless from laughing. “I feel like I’m fifteen sneaking around the ice-cream parlour all over again.” 

“First time this happened to me, actually.” Billy informed Steve, who widened his eyes. 

“Really?” 

“Really.” Billy was still smiling, though. He didn’t think it was sad; his story was just a little bit different. “This was fun.” 

“Yeah, it was.” Steve agreed. “I like our sneaking around, but I also enjoy this. Being with you openly, dates and stuff.” 

“Yeah, dates and stuff are cool too.” Billy chuckled. Then, slowly, sobered up a bit. “I’m sorry but I should be heading back. All three of the nurses were busy, one of ‘em is there with him but she has a niece’s birthday at eight-thirty and I can’t make her late for a kid’s birthday.” 

“It’s OK.” Steve learned and pecked Billy on the lips. “See you Monday.” 

“-Unless you wanna stay there with me.” He offered. Then shook his head. “Sorry, stupid idea. Forget about it.” 

Steve touched his arm. “It’s not stupid. I’d like that.” 

“But you-” He hesitated. “I mean, you know how my dad can be. You saw it.” He reminded Steve, looking at him sideways. “I don’t want you to be caught in the crossfire if something happens.” 

“I know the situation is tense, but I don’t feel comfortable that you have to be alone with him either, to be honest.” Steve told him, staring at the steering wheel. “I’m honestly always afraid that someday you won’t show up to work and it’ll be because your dad had a rage fit, or something, and bashed your head open.” 

“Ain’t gonna happen. Not with the medication, he’s been doing much better.” 

“Then I can come over, can’t I?” Harrington challenged, and, yeah. Touché. 

“Okay.” Billy nodded. Nervous, but, thinking. Maybe… maybe he didn’t need to do it all alone. Maybe people  _ wanted _ to help, and that was OK too. 

Maybe he didn’t need to be alone.

“Thank you.” He held Steve’s hand with his, feeling like this was the most intimacy they had, despite already exchanging a few handjobs and many kisses and gropes. It felt just as good. 

They got to Neil’s house, and, to their relief, they were both informed by the nurse that Neil was already asleep. She left Steve and Billy by the couch, watching TV side by side. 

And nothing happened. The world didn’t end. 

Maybe not being alone in this could be OK, too. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

“Billy?” Max’s voice came to him on the phone. Her voice sounded distressed. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He answered. “What’s happening?” 

“We got a bit of a situation, and we need one more sane person around to deal with this.” Maxine paused. “Mike punched Will.” 

He didn’t need any more explanation than that. “I’m on my way. 

* * *

They were yelling when he got there. 

“Hey, hey, what’s going on here?” Billy skipped pleasantries, going straight after the yelling voices. Harrington stopped Mike from advancing over Will, who had red-rimmed eyes, but looked just as mad as his friend. 

“He started it!”

“It’s his fault!” 

They both spoke at the same time. Billy immediately rolled his eyes. “Okay, one at a time.” It felt sort of weird, but sort of normal, to take the reins of that situation. He knew what it was about, after all. He just needed to guide those fools into realizing that. 

“Mike punched me!” Will screamed, his red eye slowly swelling, Billy could see. It would turn purple in about an hour. He was pretty good with that stuff. 

“Max, go grab some ice for Will, OK?” He asked her, who quickly nodded and ran off to the kitchen. He wondered if that was because she didn’t want to be there, or if it was because she knew they would rather she wasn’t there for what was going to happen. 

Billy was ripping the fucking band-aid off. 

“Why did you punch him, Mike?” Billy demanded from the other boy, who stopped trying to go through Steve. He seemed thankful that Billy was there. Harrington was good with some stuff, but probably not with this. He didn’t blame him, but wondered why him and Max thought of him. 

Mike just looked angrily at Billy, saying nothing. Wouldn’t betray his friend. Good kid. 

“Why  _ the fuck _ did you punch your best friend in the face, Wheeler?” Billy demanded once again, feeling like he was looking more and more like his asshole-ish self. Well. Whatever worked. “Does your silence mean I should punch him, too?” 

“Don’t you fucking  _ dare-”  _ The Wheeler boy started to come onto him now, and Billy let him. Mike had him against the wall, but Billy was  _ not _ fucking backing down. 

“Then why did  _ you _ punch him, if everybody else is not allowed to take a swing, huh, Wheeler?” 

“Fuck you, shut your trap mouth, you son of a-”

“SAY IT, WHEELER.” He growled right back at his face. “SAY IT. WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU THAT WAS SO HORRIBLE, HUH?” 

“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, HE  _ KISSED ME _ , OKAY?” Wheeler yelled back, and, just like that, the fight blew out of him in an exhale. It was done.

Billy cocked his head, knowing that the boy was expecting him to mock it. “So what?” 

That took the rug from under him again. “So-  _ so what?  _ Are you insane?” 

“Don’t think so, no.” He shrugged. “He kissed you. So what?” 

“It’s-he’s-” He hesitated. “It’s wrong!”

“Why?” Billy challenged again, keeping his stance open and relaxed. Acceptance was what he needed, and when he traded a look with Steve from over Wheeler’s shoulder, he knew he was on board with whatever they needed to do to help. The boy resisted, so Billy insisted. “Why is that wrong, Mike?” 

“He’s- because he’s-” He couldn’t make himself say it.  _ Awesome.  _ Great. 

“He’s what, Wheeler?” He took one step forward, forcing the boy to take a step back. “A faggot?” All three man other than himself in the room winced at that term. “He’s a pillow biter? A pussy?”

“Stop saying that!” Mike screamed at him. 

“Fairy? Sissy? Poof? Come on, Wheeler, if that’s how you think then you gotta say it or you’re just like him.” He took another few steps forward, cornering the boy. 

“I’m not saying that! That’s terrible!” 

“Do you even think it’s wrong, then?” 

Silence. 

“Did you like it, Wheeler?” His voice wasn’t challenging anymore. It turned softer, as soft as it needed to be to tend to such a wound. 

“What?” He looked like a deer caught on the headlights. “N-no! Of course not, what are you…?” 

Billy turned to Steve, pulling him closer. Steve went willingly, put his arms over Billy’s shoulders with familiarity, and the kiss came as natural as it came every single day for them - but, in this case, it was short and sweet. 

Then he turned back to both boys, hand still on Steve’s, and they both had their eyes adorably bugged out. 

“You- but…” Wheeler’s brain took too long to catch up. “But you said you were on a  _ date! _ ” He accused Steve, who only shrugged in response. 

“I was on a date with him.” Was his answer. 

“You-but you dated my sister!” 

“I’m bi, Mike.” Steve ripped the band-aid, and boy, Billy felt so fucking proud. Now he finally got the urge to go to those marches. 

“I’m all-’round gay, tho.” He informed both boys carelessly. “Pick your fuckin’ jaws out of the floor and sit down. We gotta have a talk here.” 

They all sat down, Steve and him on the armchairs, Will and Mike on the couch, still not touching. 

“‘m sorry I said it’s wrong.” Wheeler apologized, not even looking Billy in the eye. 

“Don’t sweat it, kid. I’m not the one you should be apologizing to here.” 

More silence. Damn it. 

“Don’t you think Eleven already knows?” Billy insisted, and they both winced, hard.

“I hope not.” Mike said, voice small. Will just nodded in agreement. 

“Don’t you think she’d understand?” Steve tried, but Billy touched his hand, asking him to stop. 

“I don’t think the problem is Eleven understanding, Steve.” He took a moment and leaned forward. “Feels to me like you both like each other.”

They said nothing, but blushed. OK. He could work with that. 

“But it also seems like you both like her.” He completed. 

“Of course I like her! She’s my girlfriend!” 

“She’s my friend, of course I like her.” 

“I don’t mean like a friend, Will.” Billy corrected him softly. 

They both proceeded to think. “What do you-?” 

“What would you rather do if there was nobody else in the whole world?” He interrupted Will’s train of thought. That kid was too good to be true, honestly. 

“You’re saying-?” Steve interrupted him, and he squeezed his hand again before he could say anything. 

“You two gotta talk to Eleven, but she wasn’t raised like most girls. I’ve had her in my head, I’d know.” He informed them both. “I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t mind if you two brought some free love from the sixties back to the nineties.” 

Both boys just sat there, flushing with each thought that progressed into their minds. It was like Billy could read them like a book. 

“Why are you still sitting there?” He challenged them again and threw his car keys to Byers. “Drive up to Hopper’s kid and ask her what she thinks of this. You never gonna know if you don’t talk to her.” 

“But-” 

“Everything’s gonna be wrong to somebody, kid. Your religion, your haircut, songs you like. Everybody’s got a fucking opinion.” He told them. “But do you really wanna live a life trying to please those fuckers instead of doing whatever the fuck you want? Especially since you could die tomorrow, or next month?” 

It was a cheap, very beaten shot, but it worked. The boys hurried to the car, probably intending to drive to Eleven’s place, maybe even talk and make out on the way there. He didn’t care; seats were leather. One good swipe of cleaning fluid and it’d be OK. 

Once they were gone, Steve stood up from his armchair and sat across on Billy’s lap, looking pretty proud as well. “That was great. I’d never guess they’d rather be a trio.” 

“I got good at reading people because I had to read my dad’s moods from a very young age. Or so my soon-to-be psychologist friend says.” He smiled, kissing Steve’s cheek. “They’ll be fine.” 

“You certainly made us all believe that they will.” The other man chuckled. “I mean, the way you just challenged them into admitting it-” 

“Another thing my friend did to me. Worked pretty well.” He shrugged. 

Steve pondered on that. “He made you admit you’re gay like that?” 

Billy shook his head. “Made me admit I was in love with him, back then, even though he had a wife.” 

Steve whistled. “That’s rough.” 

“It was good for me, though. They were the first people to ever be accepting and open towards me. And me being in love with him didn’t affect our friendship at all, or to his wife. I felt safe like I never had before.” He revealed, letting his hands rest on Harrington’s legs. They were… pretty good legs. Nice and firm, even though he wasn’t bulky. Kinda like his ass pressed against Billy’s thighs, but it was probably not a good idea to keep thinking about that with him sitting right there, though. 

“Yeah, I imagine you did.” Harrington agreed, but there was something bitter about his tone. 

Billy smiled, amused. “Jealous?” 

Steve flushed. It was adorable. “Maybe.” He admitted, and Billy rewarded him with a kiss on his temple. “You talk about love and that guy as if it’s so easy to you.”  _ But you said nothing to me _ stayed in the air. 

“I’m not exactly a words kind of guy, but it’s good to know you need them. I’ll try my best to say out loud what you need to know as often as I can.” Billy kissed his cheek. “I am definitely in love with you, Steve Harrington.” 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWW!” Was the warning they got from the door that they weren’t alone anymore. Billy hid his face on Steve’s shoulder, Steve covered his own eyes with his hands. 

“How long have you been there, Maxine?” 

“Just enough to see you telling Steve that you’re in love with him!” She skipped happily to them. “That’s so cute!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He shook his head and finally looked at her. He couldn’t hide his smile; he was happy. “Do you think anyone will freak out about this?” He asked her, aiming for her honesty. “Now they know.” 

She sat down in front of them, looking completely unbothered by the scene in front of her. She was such an amazing human being. “I don’t think so, no. We always knew Will had a thing for Mike, and Mike had a thing for Will, and El just kinda laughs at them but says nothing, but that never changed how anyone treated them.” 

“OK.” He took a deep breath in and out. “OK.” 

“What does that mean?” She spoke again. “You wanna be out with it?” 

Billy exchanged a look with Steve. It was visible that they were both afraid. “I… I’d like that.” Billy answered. “But I’m not sure how dangerous that is in this corner of the world. Don’t wanna put him in danger.” 

“I’d like that too.” Steve answered, his fingers sliding through Billy’s hair gently. He felt chills down his spine, but tried to play it down. “And if people decide to be assholes, I still have that bat with nails in my trunk.” 

“It’s a bit more than that, and you know it.” He shook his head. “People still think you can get AIDS from a handshake.” 

“Hopper is on our side, though.” Steve reminded him. “At least from what we got the other night.” 

“What happened the other night?” Maxine asked with one of those infuriating smug smiles of hers. 

Billy rolled his eyes. “You stick your freckled nose elsewhere, please.” 

“Where should my beautiful bride stick her-” Dustin arrived from the hallway and their positions stopped him short. Things happened pretty quickly behind his eyes; Billy could almost see it. “You told me you were on a date!” He accused Steve, once again their confusion was almost cute. 

“But I was!” Steve defended himself. 

“You were supposed to tell me everything! You’re like a brother to me!” He continued, looking mad as he sat beside Max and kissed her cheek. 

“I’m like a brother to Maxine and she doesn’t know shit, too.” He shook his head. “Boundaries, dude.” 

“What else did I miss?” 

“Mike punched Will because Will kissed Mike.” Max announced, looking thrilled that there had been some action around. 

“WHAT?” Dustin screeched. “What the hell happened?!” 

“We called Billy and he solved it.” Steve answered, looking awfully smug himself. It was as if he was saying  _ see? My boyfriend did it _ , and Billy felt the urge to bite him, but quenched it down. 

“How? We’ve been trying for months!” 

“First he kissed me in front of them and dared them to say it was bad or wrong.” Steve continued explaining. “Then he made them realize they didn’t need to be just a  _ couple _ .” 

Dustin’s mind did the math again. “Oh my God! Of course! Polyamorous trio in Hawkins, it’s just what we needed!” He said, and there was no ironic inflection in his voice. Dustin was a weird kid, but Billy kinda liked him. 

“How do you know what polyamorous even means?” Steve arched one eyebrow. 

“I researched, of course! Once I got that the guys could be gay for each other, I thought I’d read my fill to know more about other sorts of relationship. It’s all biological, you know? Alfred Kinsey wrote two books in ‘48 and ‘53 about it, he has a scale and all.” Dustin explained, all happy and excited about biology, as usual. “Since then they found out non-straight behavior amongst many other animals.” 

“Nice to know.” 

“You ready?” Max asked Dustin, who nodded, shrugging off his lab coat. 

“I’ll just grab a proper coat and we can go.” 

“Where you going?” Billy asked, interested. 

“Dinner date.” Max stood up. “It’s our turn.” 

“Oh, so we’re taking turns? Didn’t know we were dating the same guy.” He teased her, but she just gave him the tongue in response. 

“It’d be weird if we went to the same place at the same time.” She explained. “There’s a limit to what I can take of you making googly eyes at Steve.” 

“First ten minutes into this house I had to see you swap spit with Henderson, don’t give me that.” Billy complained. 

She gave him the tongue again. “He’s my fiancé!” 

“Well, Steve’s my boyfriend.” Billy shrugged. “Get used to googly eyes and stop swapping spit in front of me, please.” 

“I  _ could _ be your boyfriend.” Steve corrected him, eyes narrow. Billy felt something cold take his stomach. “If you asked.” 

Billy hummed, entering the dynamic. “OK. Do I gotta make some big gesture or…?”

“Just asking is fine.” Steve guaranteed. 

Still, his stomach made a swoop. 

“OK, hm.” Billy cleared his throat. Why was he so nervous?

“OH MY GOD, ASK HIM ALREADY!” Max yelled. Oh, right. He had almost forgotten they were still there. 

“You think you’re helping, but you’re not.” He warned her, and Harrington was definitely feeling Billy’s heart beat like crazy inside his chest, with their positions as they were. Billy bit his lip. He knew Steve knew how he felt about him, he had just said it; so did him about Steve. But still, he needed the words, and Billy needed to be able to say them. 

But then again, he was waiting. He had no rush, no worry in his eyes; Steve had gentle eyes as ever, and would never force Billy to say anything. That, alone, was more than enough. 

He entwined his fingers with Steve’s gently and brought them to his lips, kissing the back of Steve’s hand. And then, it slid like water from his lips: “Will you be my boyfriend, Steve?” 

“Told you already,” Steve cupped Billy’s face with his hand. “Was just waiting for you to ask.” And then he leaned in and kissed Billy. 

“OK, that’s cute, but we got a reservation.” Dustin reminded Max, who had honest to fucking God  _ tears _ in her eyes. 

“Oh my God, are you PMSsing or something?” He tried to mock her, but his voice came out a little broken.

Max just rolled her eyes and dried her eyes with her sleeves. “Enjoy having the house by yourselves.” She said as she turned to leave with Henderson. 

The front door opened and closed; Billy couldn’t help it, he squeezed Steve’s thigh. They were alone. And he felt ready. 

“Let’s go upstairs.” He told Steve, who stared him quizzically.

“Are you sure?” 

Billy nodded, leaning to nip at his neck. “Yeah.” 

He stood up holding Steve in his arms; he was still strong enough to do that. Steve looked pleased. 

“That is  _ so hot _ , fuck, you’re giving me new kinks.” 

“Guess that’s a good thing, since I plan on being here to fulfill all of ‘em.” He kissed Steve’s cheek, carrying him upstairs slowly. There was no rush. He did want to run, though, anxiety grabbing his stomach by the neck and  _ squeezing _ . 

“ _ Damn. _ ” Steve bit his lip harder, and Billy could  _ see _ his pants getting tighter. Fucking hell. 

None of ‘em would last long at all. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

“Are you- _ oh _ ,” Billy interrupted whatever Steve was trying to say by biting his neck once again. It was a very biteable neck. “Billy!” 

He chuckled. “What?” But didn’t stop kissing the mark he left on his neck. 

“You’re not letting me be a good boyfriend here!” Steve whined, making Billy chuckle again. 

“But you’re being an awesome boyfriend right now.” He answered, biting a little lower on Steve’s already naked chest. His shirt was… somewhere. Billy couldn’t remember at which point it got off of him, but he was thankful it did. 

“Damn you, I can’t  _ think _ -” His complaint was once again cut short by Billy getting his mouth on him, specifically around a nipple this time, making him arch and moan, and then scratch Billy’s back in that delicious burning way that would definitely leave marks for later. He felt thrilled at the thought that anybody could see it. A little less thrilled that nobody would know  _ who _ made those, though. 

“You’re not supposed to, love.” He kept going down on his trail of kisses and bites, biting right below Steve’s belly button after mouthing the skin over his stomach. Steve arched beautifully, as he always did, and Billy’s heart would never learn not to skip a beat at the sight. “Just relax and enjoy.” 

“If I do that-” He paused to moan as Billy cupped his erection through his jeans. “If I do that, I’ll come in thirty seconds and this will be over much sooner than I want it to.” 

“Well, then be a good boy and hold it.” He shrugged, tongue skirting the skin underneath the waistband of Steve’s pants. 

“Fucking hell, Billy!” 

He unbuttoned Steve’s jeans, but stopped there to reach for something that he knew was on Steve’s nightstand. Once he grabbed it, Steve tried to move on the bed; Billy stopped him. 

“What?”

“I know what you’re gonna do and say.” Billy told him, settling on top of his hips.

Steve arched one eyebrow. “You do, do you?” 

“Yeah.” Billy confirmed, taking off his shirt as well. He had no pants, though; again, no idea when that had happened, but he had been that entire time with only his shirt and underwear. Harrington probably thought he was stupid. “You’re gonna say we don’t need to do this, that we don’t need to do this  _ like that _ , you’re gonna try to make me back off.” 

“Okay,” Steve frowned a bit, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“We’re not talking at all.” Billy stood up quickly to get off of his underwear, sat back on Steve’s hips. He grabbed Steve’s hand with his own, coated his fingers with the lube he got from his nightstand and stopped him when he tried to wrap his slippery fingers around Billy’s cock. 

“That’s not where I want it.” He announced, and let the pieces fall into place in Steve’s head. 

It took him a few moments. “Oh.” Another beat. He swallowed dry. “OK. OK.” Steve bit his lower lip hard, looking nervous. 

“Ever done this?” Billy asked him. Moment of truth there. 

“Just on myself.” He admitted. “You?” 

“Same, but I feel like that’s not gonna be much different.” He answered. “Been doing it to myself too, lately, getting used to it.” 

“Oh my God,” Steve breathed, his mind doing its best to picture the scene. Billy wanted to help. 

“Been doing it to myself to get used to the stretch, to make it easier when we did it together,” He leaned forward, feeling Steve’s fingers exploring his ass, finding his crack, massaging it gently. He felt kinda eager for it, actually. “But it’s not  _ my _ fingers I picture when I do it. It’s yours.” 

“Oh fuck, Billy, this is torture,” He complained, though it had no heat to it. Billy was almost loose from all the  _ training _ , it took no time at all for him to be able to stick his index finger into Billy, who did his best to relax around it. 

“I pictured you doing this in my car a bunch of times, actually.” Billy countined, voice strained. Steve was doing good, going slow, squirting more lube on his fingers, touching him all around as to find his sweet spot. Once he found it, he did a great job of hitting it repeatedly. “Fucking up my leather seats with sweat and come and saliva, just before you bend me over-” It was his time to stop and moan, loudly, arching his body up, pressing his ass to Steve’s fingers. 

“Finally found another effective way to shut you up, huh?” Steve celebrated Billy’s silence by kissing him; another finger came in right after and Billy gave up on words completely for the time being. 

Two fingers became three and Billy lost not only his words, but also his coherence. It wasn’t exactly that it was  _ that good _ , but it certainly was  _ that intense _ , overwhelming almost. He didn’t want it to stop, though, so when Steve took off his fingers, Billy wasn’t ashamed to recognize that he made a sound, loudly, in protest to it. 

“I-I’m sorry, I just thought-” 

Billy opened his eyes, snapping from his daze; Steve had a hand on his own dick, which was glistening from lube.  _ Oh _ . Right. Yeah, Billy was definitely on board with that. 

“Oh yeah, can I…?” Billy moved as Steve cursed again, stroke his dick a couple of times, making him hiss, and then slowly guided it to his asshole, lowering himself slowly. 

They ended up moaning in unisson. It took awhile for Billy to be able to work himself all the way down, and Steve was a hero through it all, just breathing and cursing to himself while patiently waiting for Billy to move as he felt comfortable. Billy was sure that couldn’t be easy. 

Once he bottomed out, though, it felt like… like nothing he felt before, obviously, but it felt… it felt good. He trusted Steve, he was in love with Steve, and unlike he thought he would feel, hot and dirty and a little humiliated, he just felt… right. He finally felt close enough to Steve, if nothing else. 

“Damn,” Billy cursed, letting the feeling take him. 

“What? Did I do something wrong? Am I hurting you?” Steve fretted, sweat coming from his temples. Billy felt his heart swell. That man was entirely too good for him, too gentle for his own sharp edges. 

“Told ya to relax and enjoy, baby.” Billy kissed Steve and started moving, slowly, tiny waves of crashing and retreating. In this position he had more control over when and how Steve’s dick would press into him, and it gave him the permission to make it hit his sweet spot as much as he could, making him go a little frenzied in his movements. Not that Steve was complaining; he looked just as pleased with everything as Billy supposed he looked. 

He was sure how long it took for the rising tide to finally drown him, but it felt like forever and like a second in a nutshell; it felt like time had no power over either of them. 

Billy’s orgasm took him long and slow; Steve’s seemed quick but  _ intense _ . Afterwards Billy crashed on top of Steve, and then slid to the side, laying next to Steve on the bed. 

He felt sticky, sore, and so happy. Billy couldn’t help but starting to laugh. 

_ Free _ . He felt free. 

“Why are you laughing?” Steve asked, a silly goofy grin on his face. Billy just shook his head, kissing him. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” He answered, still feeling giddy. 

“I love you too.” Steve answered, and  _ fuck _ . Yeah. That was it. 

He kissed Steve again. 

* * *

Billy woke up first, took a quick shower and went downstairs. Max already had toast and coffee ready, Dustin seemed to be trying to make scrambled eggs. The wrong way, of course. 

“You have to put more butter in.” He announced, and it was a testament as to how sleepy the boy was, because he wasn’t even startled by Billy’s voice. 

“How much more?” He asked back. 

“A teaspoon, I guess.” Billy also grabbed a fouet from the kitchen drawer, exchanging his wooden spoon for it. “Here, this will make it easier too.” 

Those small changes made the eggs look amazing. Henderson noticed it too. “Looks good. Thanks.” 

“Anytime.” He answered and took his place as the boy left. His aim was a bit higher than scrambled eggs, though. 

“Oh my God, what smells amazing down here?” He heard Steve’s voice coming, sleepy, from the stairs, as he padded to the dining room. 

“Billy’s happy-baking.” Max announced, still looking at her newspaper as she drank coffee and nibbled through Dustin’s eggs. “You must be pretty good in bed. That’s cinnamon rolls. It’s a hard one to make.”

“Ooh, it’s my favorite!” Steve stole Max’s mug of coffee, taking a few gulps from it. 

“Yes he is, and yes it’s hard to make, and yes I know it’s your favorite.” Billy answered all of the somewhat formulated questions as he brought the rolls to the table in a nice dish and all. He also served Max a new mug of coffee before sitting down to eat. 

“What the hell smells so amazing?” Front door opened and shut, and from the hallway arrived Wheeler, Byers and Eleven. They, too, looked all flushed and happy. 

“Celebration cinnamon rolls, have one.” He offered them. “Also, don’t tell me if there are any stains in my car, I really don’t wanna know.” 

“I made it disappear.” Eleven, despite his protest, answered, sitting just beside him. She looked excited. 

“Everything alright, then?” He asked her directly, and she nodded, taking a huge bite into one of the rolls. 

“Yes, we are alright.” The girl reassured him, smiling through the chewing. “Thank you.” 

“For you? Anytime, kid.” He answered and she kissed his cheek.

“What about me?” Steve pouted, leaning in for a kiss. 

Billy felt something awfully like shame hit him in the gut. At the thought, the thought of kissing Steve in front of everybody, even… even though they were family, and not exactly all  _ straight _ , too. He had  _ bottomed _ , for Steve. Rode his cock like a prostitute, and came on it too. Tee shame was hot lava threatening to come up and boil him. To cover it up, he pushed the bun in his hand into Steve’s mouth, making him take a bite instead of the kiss. Everybody laughed, but he felt like crying. 

Billy stood up and slipped out of the room, going back to Steve’s bedroom. He grabbed his things and got dressed as quick as he could, just not quick enough. 

“Is everything OK?” Steve’s voice came, soft, from the door. 

The shame doubled in his stomach. It felt like he was trying to escape unnoticed; and it kinda was. “Yeah. I just realized I’m sort of late for work, it’s my time to open today. Still have to check up on dad too.” 

“Okay.” Steve answered and approached, hugging Billy from behind. The urge to cry just increased, but he let him fold his arms over Billy’s chest. “See you later, then?” 

“Yeah.” Billy agreed, and it took all of him to avoid the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, the sobs from wacking his chest. “See you later.” 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

It was funny how he felt like everything had changed, but it actually stayed the same in most ways. Having sex with Harrington didn’t change the way his customers talked to him, or how his coworkers and employees joked with him; it all went on like it always had. 

“You had sex.” Mario, Enrico’s friend (and his, too, if he was honest), announced, when they were finally free of customers, by nine in the morning. 

He stopped short at the affirmation. “What?” 

“You had sex.” Mario insisted with a big grin. “Who was it?” 

“Nobody. Stop fucking around, Mario.”

“No, man. You gotta tell us.” He leaned on the wall. “I mean, we never saw you with anybody, I’m happy to see you like this. Enrico will be thrilled to know you finally have someone. Remember how he badgered you for that?” 

“Yeah, I remember. But you’re wrong.” Billy denied everything, turning to grab a box. Forgetting completely about the nail trails on the skin of his back, which were visible with the way his shirt lifted when he moved to grab a particularly heavy box. 

“The nail marks on your back say otherwise.” Gino replied, and Billy froze. Anger started boiling in his stomach. Stupid, he was so stupid. 

“Fuck you.” Was his answer, but dizziness took him. 

He let go of the box, Gino appeared in front of him, looking concerned. “Billy? Are you OK?” 

“He’s checking out.” Mario approached from the other side, holding Billy’s arm. 

He was so stupid, so stupid. Now they were never going to work with him, or for him; they would obviously find out the truth, that he was a faggot - he was no womanizer, not anymore, not even in appearances -, he would lose his money and his business, people would cuss and spit at him on the streets; he saw his dad doing it before. He was going to lose everything, and Steve and Max would finally see him for what he was, a miserable loser. A miserable loser, who was also a faggot, who could never even get away from his dad, from his voice in his head saying  _ faggot, you’re such a disgusting faggot, enjoying taking up the ass- _

“Billy? Billy, come back to me, please,” Someone was calling out for him, hands on each side of his face. “Billy,  _ please _ , Billy!”

“Enrico says he has to put his head between his knees and wait.” Mario’s voice told them from somewhere, but nothing really registered besides  _ disgusting faggot  _ and  _ lose everything, everything he worked so hard for, everything he sacrificed, everything, everything he loved, everything…  _

It felt like forever, but it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. He blinked himself back to life; there was the blanket he left by the back all around him, and his head had been lowered; he wasn’t sure why. 

“I think he’s coming back.” Steve’s voice said.  _ Steve _ . 

“Steve?” He tried to say, his throat felt scratched and dry. Had he been yelling?

“You’re back.” He smiled. “Hey. Yeah, it’s me.” 

“What happened?” Billy asked, confused. Gino, Mario, Max; they were all around him, looking at him as if he had done something extremely worrying. 

“You had a panic attack.” Mario answered. 

“Or an anxiety attack, we’re not sure.” Maxine completed. 

“What?” Billy was still confused. 

“We were joking about you having sex and you spiraled out. Looked like you were going to faint.” Gino reminded him. 

_ Faggot, a disgusting faggot- _

“Billy?” Someone thrust the phone onto his hand, onto his ear. 

“Enrico?” 

“Billy.” Enrico’s voice came from the other side of the line. He sounded worried. “How are you feeling?” 

He hesitated. He was talking to Enrico again. The whole thing was surreal, to say the least. “I-” 

“Look, I’ll say some things and you don’t gotta answer with words besides yes or no, OK?”

“Yes.” Billy answered. He could do that. 

“My guess is that you fell for somebody there.” He spoke. 

Something in Billy’s gut twisted. “Yes.”

“A guy.”

“Yes.” Another knot. 

“Does he like you back?” 

“Yes.” Short, quick. Like ripping a band-aid. 

“Alright.” Enrico seemed to understand. “It’s all still a secret.” 

“Yes.” 

Another pause. “And you think if they find out, that you will be hostilized and humiliated. Like your papá did to you.”

Billy hid his face on his knees. It was obvious that he was crying, but he didn’t want anyone to actually  _ see _ it. “Yes.” Was muffled by his thighs.

Enrico took a big sigh. “Do you think me and Claudia make fun of you in our off time?” 

“No.” 

“Then why do you think that of your friends and family?” 

Billy was about to defend himself but it got caught in his throat. That was  _ exactly _ what he was doing. 

“Nobody is obligated to like you or the way you love, Billy.” He continued as Billy dried his face on the blanket. “But trust those who do not to run away screaming every time you bring to the table something new.” 

Billy had never felt this exhausted. “Thank you.”

“Always a phone call away, amigo. Never hesitate to call.” Was his answer before he hung up. 

Billy looked around again. Mario and Gino, two of the guys who trusted his business idea so much that they moved from Kentucky to Hawkins with no guarantees. Max, his sister; Steve, the guy he loved. Yeah, maybe Mario and Gino wouldn’t want to stay around him anymore after they knew; it was their choice, after all. But that didn’t mean he didn’t get to make  _ his _ . 

Not everybody was Neil, and everyone who  _ was _ Neil could fuck off of his life. He was terrified, he wasn’t sure he would ever be actually free of that fear, but it was ‘93 already. And he’d rather live his way than die his dad’s way. 

“Thanks, guys.” He spoke, finally. “I’m sorry I worried you.” 

“Are you OK now?” He hated how Max’s voice sounded so small. 

He pulled her to him by her hand, hugging the little brat. “Yeah, I’m better.” 

“Will you tell us what happened, though?” Gino insisted, looking more and more freaked out. “You just checked out on us! Was it something I said?”

“Yes, it was something you said.” Billy agreed, making the other man look struck. “But it doesn’t mean it was your fault.”

“I was just joking around! I’m sorry!” 

He shook his head again. “Not your fault, Gino.” Then he turned to Steve. “Did you come here to talk to me?”

Steve looked disoriented. “You left your jacket by the front door.” 

“Oh, true.” He saw it dropped over a chair. Leaned forward, pecked him on the lips. He heard Max gasp beside him. “Thank you, babe.” 

Then he looked over. Gino had his eyes bugged out; Mario had his jaw so low it looked almost unhinged. One struck the arm of the other so they would snap out of it, it was funny to watch. 

“Dude,” Mario started, looking at Steve. Billy couldn’t help but to brace himself for a blow. “You gotta trim your fucking nails.” 

Steve and Max looked confused, Gino started laughing hysterically. 

Billy smiled, and then joined them in laughter as Steve checked his nails, puzzled. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

When he got home that night, Neil was waiting for him. Lights out, belt already on his hand. Billy recognized the eerie silence from the moment he stepped outside his car. He probably spit the sleeping pills the nurse gave him. It had happened before. 

“Forgot your curfew, did you?” He stood up. Time jumped back. Worse than before, he had no way out now. 

“Car broke down, sir. Had to fix it.” He tried to weave his way around it. 

“And where is your sister?” He demanded, following Billy. 

“A girlfriend’s house. Susan let her stay over, they’re having a sleepover.” 

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” He snapped the belt against the wall. “Susan is  _ not _ here to allow Maxine to do anything. I am.” 

“They had it set up before Susan went travelling.” Billy insisted, but it was no use. His dad was in  _ that _ mood. The belt came and hit him on the side, the tip snapping over his kidney. Billy didn’t react. 

“Dad,” He moved forward, insisting. “Dad, you are sick. You can’t remember anything that happened on the past five years, and I’ve been helping you for the last few weeks.” 

“STOP LYING TO ME!” He started with the damn belt again, and Billy held it before it hit him. He pulled the thing from his now fragile dad’s hand, holding it. “You son of a-”

“Neil.” Billy said in a voice he didn’t know he had. Firm and final, but soft, somehow - the softness of pity, loving companion of anger. He had the right to be angry, and he was. It was just showing up in a different way. “You are not going to hit me again.” 

Neil seemed without a reaction before he tried to swing his fist at Billy, who just held the fragile wrist with his hand. The other first came, too, but he could see a glimmer of fear on his father’s eyes. 

“Neil.” He repeated, and for a moment it all seemed like an out-of-body experience, right there. “You are  _ not _ going to hit me again. Ever again. It’s over.” He repeated calmly. 

Neil’s eyes bugged out. He tried to fight Billy, but he was already too old for that, none of his adulthood strength left. Billy could just as easily hold his wrists, and nothing happened. He looked like a caged wild animal, fighting the unbeatable. 

“YOU ARE MY SON! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! I’LL KILL YOU, I WILL KILL YOU-” 

“Dad,” Billy sounded tired. He felt tired. “Dad, enough. Stop. It’s over.” 

“IT’S ONLY OVER WHEN I SAY IT’S OVER!” He managed to pull his hands from Billy’s and grab a chair, breaking it part on his neck, part on his back. 

His whole world faded slowly as he fell to the floor. 

* * *

He woke up to the tide crashing on his head. The headache was blaring, and probably to be expected, since his first memory upon opening his eyes were of his father’s crazy eyes on him. 

Hopper was right beside him, looking like he was going to die in five minutes for not being able to smoke. He blinked when he saw Billy’s eyes open. “Hey, kid. You’re awake.” 

“Yeah.” He tried to say, but his throat was pretty dry. Hopper, not very motherly but trying anyway, reached him a cup of water with a straw for him to drink from. “Who called the police?” 

“Mrs. Norris.” He answered, looking like he wanted to put some effect on that sentence by drawing a cigarette - which was exactly what he did, pulling one, placing it in between his lips, until he realized it. Hopper grunted, put it all back, looking disgruntled. Billy wanted to laugh, but his head hurt so much. 

He nodded as much as he could with a stiff neck. “He’s not in jail, is he?” 

“No.” Hopper agreed. “He’s at a court-assigned clinic for the time being.” 

Billy tried to sit up. “Until I get out, you mean.” 

Jim shook his head, looking very serious. “Until the court decides if your dad is not fit to be taken care by his son, considering the situation.” He explained, Notre Dame's bell ringing around Billy’s head. “It’s out of our hands now, kid. The judge has to decide.”

“I can take care of him.” He insisted, perhaps way too quickly. “I came here to do it. I’m twenty-six, he can’t-” 

“He already did, Bil.” Hopper said, and paused. Pulled a chair forward so he could sit and look at Billy properly. “You don’t owe him anything, kid.” 

“But-” 

“Doesn’t matter. You already proved that you’re better than him just by coming back here and not punching him in the face when you had the chance. And, you know-” Hopper paused again as if it was a hard thing to say. “Half of the time he doesn’t even remember you. He ain’t gonna miss you. Never did, you know that.” 

Despite everything, that… hurt. He felt like curling up in a ball to die. “There’s somethin’ wrong with me, ain’t there?” He asked Jim, who shook his head and put a hand on Billy’s shoulder. 

“No, kid. There’s something wrong with  _ him _ .” He corrected him. “And always has been. And you just suffered the consequence of it.” Hopper scooted closer still. “See, kid, my dad wasn’t the best either. He didn’t hit me, but he never really loved me. And, you know, when you’re an adult… you kinda have to learn how to parent yourself.” Billy had to look away from him. “And you did that, you know. You moved away with nothing but your car, got yourself a job, pitched in, got some friends. You did that, kid.” 

“Then why do I feel like I have nothing?” Billy asked him before he could stod himself. It wasn’t like Jim Hopper was his goddamned therapist. 

“Because he made you believe that you couldn’t have him and yourself at the same time. Every boy yearns for his da’s approval, and when he doesn’t get none of it, then it kinda becomes an obsession. One that you numb out, I s’ppose.” He shrugged. “But especially considering that your survival depended on it. Lunch money, food in the house, just how far he’d take it beating you, amiright?” 

Billy nodded, recalling it all like a punch to the gut. He didn’t wanna cry. 

“Kid, listen to me,” Hopper grabbed his attention again. “You made such an impression on  _ my _ kid that she called me to rain praises about you. You  _ have _ people, if no one else, then Maxine is going crazy beyond those doors, worried about you.”

“Max has a big heart,” Billy half dismissed, half agreed. 

“So do you.” Hopper countered. “El showed me some of your stuff after Starcourt happened. I still remember those. Braiding Max’s hair, I could never do that for El, my fingers are way too big for that. And sharing lunch money with her, fixing her board without her knowing. I mean, you were an asshole, don’t get me wrong, but at that age it’s not about character, it’s a cry for help,” Hopper pondered. “And now you’re free of that. And there are people out there worried about you. And they’re gonna barge in whether you want them or not.”

Billy blinked quickly, looking at the ceiling. “Okay.” Billy said in a small voice. 

“Okay.” Hopper agreed, standing up. “And, honestly, kid,” He looked pointedly at Hopper again. “I know I’m old and all, but if you need…  _ someone’s _ dad to hug you, or talk to you, you know.” He shrugged. “I’m right here. Never leaving Hawkins, oh no. No other city is going to look over what my El is doing with the Wheeler and the Byer’s kids.” 

Billy ended up chuckling. “They’re happy. Ain’t that enough?” 

Jim shrugged. “Ask yourself that, kid.” He said, and turned, opening the bedroom’s door. 

Max was there, so was Steve. And Will, Mike, Eleven, Dustin, Mrs. Norris, Gino and Mario, even Mrs. Byers; there, waiting to see him. 

Billy smiled. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

_ A few months later… _

The clinic didn’t smell like bleach, despite being a clinic. Billy wasn’t sure why he had expected that; the chemical smell, like the hospital. But no. This clinic was a pleasant place, airy and bright with sunshine coming from every open window, a cool breeze chasing the heat away. 

“Billy, sweetie,” Mrs. Byers snapped him out of his musings with a hand on his arm. “Are you sure?” 

“I am.” He guaranteed her with a smile of his own. She had been such a great support ever since her car broke down and he fixed it for free. He knew the woman worked her ass off her whole life, she deserved a break. 

Well, she paid him with a dinner at her house, with her kids, he brought a casserole and Steve, one thing came to another, Will told his mom what he did for them, and now he had a mom for life. There was no getting rid of her, now; not that he wanted to. 

“We’ll be at the door, so we can stop him if he tries anything.” Gino told him, crossing his arms over his chest to try to look buffer than he actually was. Billy thought it was cute. 

“There is no need, guys.” 

“Nonsense. We know he’s medicated, but he’s done stuff like this before.” Mario insisted. “We were there at the hospital, dude. Your hair was bashed.” He looked a bit disturbed by the memory. “We’ll be right here if you need us.” 

His heart space felt warmer, and bigger, than he ever thought was possible. There were a lot of people to fit there, now. Again, not that he was complaining. 

“Thanks.” Billy said, and knocked on his dad’s room’s door before going in. 

He was sitting down on a chair, facing the window. Neil didn’t acknowledge Billy’s presence in the room physically other than a quick change of his gaze, which was promptly corrected afterwards. He was having a good day, then.

He put the basket of pastries and the white flowers on the table by his side. “I know you don’t wanna be here, but it’s out of my hands.” Billy pulled the second chair and sat down. “The judge won’t budge. Says it’s too dangerous for me to be in charge of your care and treatment.”

No word from Neil, still, but his jaw tensed. He was listening, and it was enough. 

“I’m just here to say… you were right.” Neil finally turned to him, looking surprised, but quickly turned away again. “I  _ am _ gay, like you always said I was. And I’m moving in with a guy.” He announced. He didn’t need his father’s approval, he just needed to express himself. To take off the armor in front of him, but in a safe space. His reaction was of no matter. 

“You’re not my son.” Neil spat on the floor in front of him. 

Billy shrugged. “Whatever you say, Neil.” He adjusted language immediately. “I won’t be coming here anymore, like you asked. I just wanted to give you one last chance. We can’t legally get married in Indiana, but we’re having a small ceremony before we move in together. Just a few friends and family, some good food.” 

“I ain’t going to a faggot’s wedding if it’s not to shoot them both down.” 

It was surprising, what having people in his life changed. The fucked up announcement from his father that he would rather have Billy dead than gay and happy didn’t really hurt, now. 

“That’s OK. But know that’s the last invite you’ll ever get from me.” Billy stood up, putting the chair he had been sitting on back in its former place. “I’ve decided to grant your wish and stop coming here at all.” 

Neil just grunted something unintelligible in response.

“I keep thinking how sad it is for you. I know sometimes you don’t remember anything, the nurses say you wake up confused and calling for me, and you’d rather I don’t come.” He shook his head. “But nobody here will think I abandoned you. They have footage of what you’re capable of doing.” Billy rubbed his eyes with his hand, trying not to remember. 

“I just wanted to give you one last chance to be in my life, but you won’t accept anything that it’s not in your terms.” He shrugged. “It’s why you’re alone. Now, completely.” 

Billy opened the door, and saw his dad’s face glancing back for a moment. Stubbornness replaced fear and regret pretty quickly. 

“If you don’t remember this later, the invitation is in the basket.” Billy informed him. “And if you change your mind, all you have to do is call.” 

Billy got out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Nothing was fixed, nothing had changed; but he didn’t need anything to be different anymore. He  _ had _ a family, he saw it every day in Steve’s smile, Max giving him the tongue, Mrs. Byers’ warm hugs, Mario and Gino’s jabs, the way the trio Wheeler-Byers-Hopper kept showing up every morning at his kitchen to hog his food, eventually dragging Chief Hopper and Mrs. Byers to prove how good Billy was of a cook (turns out they thought he was pretty good). 

Billy knew he had a family, and that wasn’t one made of bonds of blood and law, respect and responsibility; those were people who kept showing up in his life by choice, people who wanted to be by his side, who valued what he brought to their lives, even if it was just his company sometimes. Those were people who cared, people who concocted a ceremony for his and Steve’s love without them asking for anything. 

Those were people he loved, and who loved him back. He didn’t need to expect a dead man’s love anymore. Neil Hargrove didn’t have anything to offer to anybody; even to himself - that’s why he was always draining those around him. But he had no obligation to let himself be drained like that. It had hurt to give up wishing for his father’s love, and he was sure he would have some setbacks on that area a few times still; but looking at Joyce’s, Mario’s and Gino’s eyes right then, inside that clinic, he knew they would always bring him back to feeling loved, instead of the lack of love. They would bring him out of the past, and into the present moment, where he was worthy of their love just for being who he was. 

There was nothing wrong with Billy. It was Neil who, for some reason, couldn’t love his son, because he had nothing left to give. 

“Billy, dear?” Mrs. Byers cupped his face with her hands. They were slightly cold. 

He held her hand against his face before shifting it to kiss the back of her fingers. She smiled at him, very motherly. 

“Let’s go home.” 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

October, 2014

_ Dear Dad,  _

_ Hi, dad. Wherever you are. It’s Billy. Your son.  _

_ You know, a lot has changed since you left the house; a little more since you died. As I’m writing you this, I’m completing 47 years old. _

_ I’m writing this to you now because, finally, I got married. Indiana took until October 6th of this year to make same-sex marriage legal. Me and Steve didn’t wait; we got married on the following week. Not that much has changed for it, since we have been living together for the past twenty years.  _

_ My life hasn’t ended yet, and it won’t for some time still, if everything goes accordingly, but I am very proud of what I’ve built so far. I opened and expanded a workshop in Hawkins and another five cities, I’m making good money with my work. I have loyal friends who yell and scare away people who think they can treat me like you did, because I am gay. And I have a beautiful husband who can’t cook for shit, and who has a brain that doesn’t function before the second mug of coffee, but who isn’t afraid fo tell me he loves me every single day.  _

_ It wasn’t always good, or easy, or nice. I had panic attacks, I almost walked out on him a few times, and people still call me those ridiculous names you were so fond of, sometimes. Sometimes, holding Steve’s hand in mine in the open comes naturally; sometimes your voice yells atrocities in my head, still, and I feel gut curl up on my chest, trying to curb all the love I feel for him and kill it with shame.  _

_ I have gotten better and better at shutting that voice up, though. At this point, it almost doesn’t get to me anymore. _

_ I am happy, dad. It took me twenty-six years to realize that I could be happy, another twenty to build everything I have now, but it makes me genuinely  happy . And now, finally, I can see with my heart what I saw with my mind years ago: that you were a small, lonely man, who would rather blame his own misery on others, than to try to face your own sadness and take responsibility for his own behavior.  _

_ Despite that, and all you did to me, I have to thank you, because I will never,  ever do that. If anything, you taught me what  not do be, what  not to do. And that was the greatest lesson anybody could ever give me. I cannot imagine the type of mediocre life - like yours - I would have led without that knowledge.  _

_ Also, Susan re-married just after Max married Dustin Henderson. They have two kids, one of them is a boy who loves to wear princess dresses. I almost made a horrible comment the first time I saw it, can you believe it? After all the progress I did. But they’re the happiest kids I know, and I’ll be damned if I let anybody spoil their fun, even if it’s me. Not to mention that they would have to get through Max, first, and she is still just as scary as she ever was. I’m so proud of her. I think you would be, too. And Susan’s husband is a nice, kind guy from Missouri; he makes her so happy.  _

_ Dad, wherever you are, I hope you learned your less like I learned mine. I hope the hateful thoughts you voiced while you were alive don’t make sense to you anymore, and that love has finally taken your heart so you could move forward. And I hope you forgive me, and that you forgive yourself.  _

_ To be honest, even at this point, forgiveness is the only kind of love I can give you, and myself, when it comes to us. I forgive you to set us both free.  _

_ Love, _

_ William Neil Harrington-Hargrove.  _

_ PS: Me and Steve are adopting a child next month, if everything goes right. Your name, now my and my husband’s name, will be passed forward with love. I hope you’re as happy about it as I am. I’m going to be a dad, and I’ll teach them respect and responsibility without ever raising my hand.  _

_ PPS: See you on the other side.  _


End file.
